


Somewhere We Belong

by RogueHunter06



Series: The Trichlors in Thedas [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-03 04:19:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 209,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5276354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogueHunter06/pseuds/RogueHunter06
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While searching for his missing sister, Mardin comes across a woman named Hawke instead. She offers to help him if he will help her in return with an expedition she is planning. He agrees, having no idea what he's just gotten himself into - though he'd be happy to make Hawke's bed one of those things. Brianna Hawke needs as much help as she can get with her expedition, and is glad to add another skilled warrior to her party.  She doesn't know quite what to make of his forward nature, however.  And she's fairly certain he's hiding something from her - she's just not sure what it could be.  Sequel to Together or Not At All. M for eventual lemons, Will contain Origin and OC cameos eventually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A New Home

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to my previous Dragon Age Origins story, Together or Not At All. I don't think you will need to have read that to enjoy this story, but it would definitely help, especially as I plan to have characters from that story show up later on in this one. This will follow major events of DA2, while skipping over minor side quests, but will also have extra content between missions and original things involving my OC. Will eventually have lemons, but they will be marked for anyone who doesn't want to read them.
> 
> For those of you who have read my previous story, this takes place about two years after the end of that story. I'm basing this on a rough timeline of Awakening events taking place over about a year, and then giving Anders some time to get himself possessed and come to Kirkwall. I will likely be messing with DA2's timelines a lot, starting with the fact that they've already been in Kirkwall about two years and haven't gone on the expedition yet. I also don't intend to have two 3-year time jumps, as I just don't find it likely that absolutely nothing interesting happens in all that time - twice. If I do have time jumps, they'll be a lot shorter.
> 
> As a side note, I do plan to do some flashbacks to the events of Awakening, I just haven't decided whether to do them as separate one-shots or inserted into chapters in this story. If anyone has an opinion on that, or on certain events from Awakening they'd like to see, let me know.

Chapter 1: A New Home

"We have a message from Cranin, Captain. He asks that you meet him at Starwood Point by noon." Lorcan finished off the message with a salute, standing just inside the door of Mardin's office at the headquarters of the Order.

_At last_. Mardin stood up, nodding at the tall, wiry man with the hawk-like nose and dark hair that had been his lieutenant ever since his sister had disappeared nearly three years ago. "Then it must finally be time for me to leave."

Mardin crossed to the wall, taking down his longsword and his shield that bore the symbol of the Order, the crossed swords backed by the spreading white wings, strapping both on. He already wore a light chainmail shirt beneath his sky-blue tunic bearing the same symbol, and light bracers and greaves strapped to his arms and legs. He took off the gold armband that marked him as Captain, which also bore the Order of Avallonne's symbol, and moved around his desk, holding it out. "It's yours now, Lorcan."

Lorcan shook his head. "No, Captain, you'd best keep it. I'll have a new one made, like we did when Ayla disappeared." He tapped the silver armband on his left arm, that had been made to replace the one Ayla had been wearing the day she had gone missing.

Mardin hesitated, still holding the armband out towards Lorcan. "You know I'm not coming back." Cranin had been very clear about that when Mardin had begged to be allowed to go; this was to be a one-way trip. He would never return to Fallor, and neither would his sister.

"All the same, you should keep it," Lorcan replied firmly. "Best to have a reminder of where you came from, and who you were, Captain."

Mardin shook his head, unable to stifle a smile as he put the armband back on. "That's another thing. You don't need to call me that anymore; you're the Captain now, not me."

Lorcan shrugged. "As far as I'm concerned, you'll always be my Captain, whether you're here or not, ser. So you'd best deal with it until you leave."

Mardin smiled, genuinely touched at his Lieutenant's loyalty as he took one last look around the office. The room was now bare except for the desk; he'd packed up all of his other personal items days ago while he waited for word from Cranin. "Well, if you insist."

"I do, Captain." Lorcan gave him an unrepentant grin when Mardin rolled his eyes at him. "Final orders, ser?"

"You should inform the others after I leave that you'll start the trials for a new Lieutenant in a week. That will give them time to nominate a few candidates. Move your things into the office in the meantime, and get a new armband made. As for the patrol scheduling and everything else, you already know what to do there." Mardin clapped him lightly on the shoulder. "You've been a great Lieutenant, Lorcan. Thank you. I know I'm leaving the Order in good hands."

Lorcan saluted. "I'll do my best, Captain. Now you should go find your sister; Cranin doesn't like to be kept waiting."

"You would think he was a Messenger of the Goddess, or something," Mardin replied wryly. "And I will find her, you can be sure of that."

"I am, Captain," Lorcan said as Mardin walked past him to the door. "Good-bye – and good luck."

Mardin turned in the doorway, snapping his own salute. "Good-bye, Captain." He grinned as the other man laughed. "Until we meet in the World Beyond."

Lorcan nodded formally at him. "Until then."

Mardin left, walking down the stone hallway of the headquarters towards the front entrance. This time of day, most of the warriors were out on patrols or training, so he only passed a few members in the hallway. They snapped to attention as he went by, hands over their hearts, and he nodded at each in turn, but didn't pause on his way to the door. Now that the time had finally come, there was no point in delaying any longer.

He reached Starwood Point only an hour later; it was not far from headquarters, in the middle of Realta Woods. Starwood Point itself was a large, perfectly circular clearing in the center of the woods, and in the exact middle was the Starwood Tree. It shone with the blinding silvery light of the star that it was named for, and as such was nearly impossible to look at directly. It was also blessed with a purifying spiritual magic, so that no demons or monsters could approach it, and indeed, it was uncomfortable for most humans to get close to as well.

Cranin, however, was standing only a few feet away from it when Mardin stepped into the clearing. Being a Messenger of the Goddess and a Unigician, a naturally born shape-shifter with both the ability to shift into a unicorn and blessed with a great deal of magical talent, made him about as pure of heart as it was possible to be. At the moment, he was in human form, though Mardin could still see a bit of his golden horn sticking out of his forehead between the shaggy blonde locks of his hair. As a naturally born shifter, as opposed to a made one like Mardin himself, Cranin could never fully appear as human; the horn would always be present. And, as always when he was in human form, he wore his green robes trimmed with gold with the symbol of a golden fox emblazoned on the front that marked him as the Goddess's chosen Messenger. Mardin wasn't certain Cranin owned any other clothing; certainly he'd never seen him in anything else.

"Cranin." Mardin stopped a few feet away, wincing; he could already feel the uncomfortable stinging from being so close to the tree as he bowed to the Messenger. "Is it time?"

"It is indeed," the Messenger replied, nodding. "It has been discovered at last; the place and time in the world where your sister is that we can send you without causing an imbalance. Where you arrive, you will have a destiny of your own to fulfill; one that will keep that world from slipping further into the darkness that is trying to claim it. You must be aware of what this means; your sister is not likely to be in the place where you arrive. Nor can you simply abandon your destiny there to go looking for her."

"I know," Mardin said, a trifle impatiently. Cranin had gone over this before, many times in the past three years since Ayla had disappeared. After a week of frantic searching with every warrior in the Order backing him, Mardin had gone to the castle and demanded an audience with the Messenger. It was then he'd discovered that his sister had been transported to another world, to fulfill some mysterious destiny there if she so chose. Mardin had demanded to be sent after her, but Cranin had refused, saying it was not even certain yet that Ayla would remain. A few months later, Cranin had sent word that she had accepted her destiny and elected to remain in this other world, forever. Upon hearing this, Mardin had repeated his demand to go, and eventually, after lengthy consultation with the Goddess, Cranin had given in. Apparently, the Goddess had foreseen that Mardin would eventually have a place of his own in this world, one where he would not cause an imbalance as one born to another world. They had only to wait for the opportunity, and then he could go. Many things had been stressed to him in the time they'd spent waiting, and the facts that he would never return and he must make sure to follow his own destiny had been chief among them. His mission to find his sister was to remain secondary to his primary mission, which he would only find out when he got there. "I can do both, I promise you. I will keep my focus on my destiny, and only look for her when I have time."

"See to it that you do so," Cranin said coolly, giving Mardin a piercing stare with his golden eyes. "It is of grave importance that the balance of that world is kept from sliding into darkness. For if it falls completely, so do all the worlds."

Mardin met the Messenger's eyes firmly. "I will do whatever I have to. I always have."

Cranin nodded after a moment. "Then we shall begin."

The Messenger began chanting in the ancient language of the Goddess, loudly and rapidly. Mardin only knew a few words of it himself, not being a mage, so he didn't bother trying to follow Cranin's spell; he merely stood, waiting and watching for something to happen. He didn't know what to expect when the portal to the other worlds finally opened; Cranin had been close-mouthed about that, as he was about so many things.

At first, nothing happened, but as the chant continued, the ground began to shake and the wind began to pick up, more and more, until it was swirling around the inside of the clearing. Then, a golden light began to appear just to the left of Cranin, in front of the tree, growing steadily larger as the wind howled around them. By the time the wind was so strong it was nearly blowing Mardin off his feet while the ground rocked beneath him, the light had become the size and shape of a large door, and Cranin had stopped chanting.

"It is time to go, Mardin Trichlor," Cranin shouted over the roaring of the wind. "The portal will bring you where you need to be. Where you arrive and who you meet after your arrival will be your clues to your destiny. You must not fail."

Before Mardin could even reply, the wind grew so strong that he was blown off his feet. To be more precise, he was essentially picked up by the wind and thrown at the door of light in front of him. Part of him still expected to go straight through and land on his face in front of the tree, or worse yet, hit the tree, but he didn't. Instead, he found himself in a black void, unable to see anything at all, not even his hand in front of his face. He could only sense and feel things around him; he was being tumbled, end over end, pushed and pulled in so many different directions he had no concept of whether he was upside down, right side up or sideways. He could feel a pressure on him as well, as though he was being squeezed, and the pressure grew steadily greater, until he cried out from the force of it, and still it kept pressing down. He started struggling to breathe, and could feel himself fading in and out of consciousness until he blacked out entirely.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Mardin came to, it was to find himself laying face-down on sandy ground. He pushed himself slowly to his feet, waiting for some kind of soreness, but he felt surprisingly fine, for the most part. He shook out each limb, testing it, but found nothing wrong aside from a mild headache. Well, besides the fact that he was hungry and thirsty, that is.

He looked around him, taking stock of where he'd landed in this new world. He appeared to be on some sort of beach, albeit a very rocky one. He was surrounded by sand, jagged rocks, and equally rocky hilltops all around him. Some bits of greenery could be seen here and there between the rocks, but it was largely all sand. It appeared to be midday in this world, too, although Mardin had no idea if that meant no time had passed since he'd left home or a whole day had passed. At any rate, the sun was blazing warmly down out of a cloudless blue sky, so at least the weather was good. He took an experimental sniff; there were too many smells to process properly, even with his heightened sense of smell, but he could definitely scent the ocean nearby, as well as rocky ground and plants and . . . he wrinkled his nose. Some people were nearby. They didn't smell very good, but Cranin had said the people he met after arriving would be part of his destiny, so he'd best go take a look.

He made his way towards the smell of people, following the sandy trail between the jagged rocks, wiping at the sweat on his forehead as he went; it was surprisingly hot out. Finally, he rounded a bend and came upon a large clearing in the maze of rocks, filled with a dozen rough-looking men, wearing varying degrees of leather or splintmail armor, and armed to the teeth. They had a small campsite set up, and some of them appeared to be counting out money or dividing items, while a couple of others were standing guard, and some were cooking over a small fire. These couldn't be the people he was supposed to find, Mardin thought, frowning. He had a bad feeling about them, and like any shifter, he knew to trust that uncomfortable gut instinct.

"Who are you?" one guard demanded belligerently. "You ain't one of ours. No one else is supposed to know we're here."

"Well – " Mardin began, unsure of what to say, but he was interrupted before he could come up with anything.

"Who cares who he is?" a man by the fire said. "He's not one of ours, and he's armed. Kill him."

"Good to know everyone's so friendly around here," Mardin muttered under his breath as he drew his sword and shifted his shield into place. His first instincts had been right; these men had to be bandits or something of the like, and there were few things in life he liked better than killing bandits.

He met the first guard who'd spoken with a blow in the chest from his shield, sending the man flying across the clearing and crashing into some of the other men as he grinned ferally at the other guard, launching into an attack. Increased strength was one of his shifter advantages while in human form, along with his sense of smell, and it was one he fully enjoyed using in battle. It only took a few swings of his sword before the guard was so overwhelmed that he was easily able to run him through; but by then, the other men had surrounded him.

He frowned, debating trying to shift; he was unsure if it would work here. Cranin had been unclear about that, but if it did work, it would take him at least a good thirty seconds to shift, in which time he would be defenseless. It might be more trouble than it was worth to attempt while he was surrounded, but neither was he certain he could best this many men in straight combat. He had just about decided to try it anyway as he danced about, avoiding blows and slamming men aside with his shield, when he smelled something else on the wind.

He'd barely had time to process that it was other people before a fireball slammed into the back of one of the men to the side of Mardin, lighting the man up as he fell to the ground screaming. This was followed by the appearance of four people coming around the bend; one appeared to a strangely glowing man with a greatsword, another a dwarf with a crossbow, a third a young man with another greatsword, and finally a young woman with a staff, who sent a blast of ice into another man right in front of Mardin, freezing him solid. Mardin grinned, slamming his shield into the frozen man and busting him apart in a shower of ice before swinging at his next opponent. It appeared he wouldn't have to shift after all.

With the help of the four surprisingly effective newcomers, it became a simple matter to defeat his attackers. When the last man had fallen, struck by a crossbow bolt to the back while Mardin ran him through from the front, Mardin turned to face the new arrivals, nodding at them as he lowered his sword and shield. He didn't put them away just yet, however. He had a good feeling about these people, but that didn't mean they would feel the same about him. "I thank you for the help," he said formally. "That would have been a tricky fight alone."

The young, dark-haired man with the greatsword, dressed in a heavy grey tunic with a golden collar that left his arms bare, snorted. "You expect us to believe you could have defeated them all yourself?"

"Well, it wouldn't have been easy, but I think I could have managed," Mardin said easily, ignoring the jab. "Still, this was much simpler, so thank you, again."

The woman strode forward to face him, and Mardin noted with interest how the men fell in behind her. She was their leader, then, and a beautiful one at that, he was pleased to see. She had rich, chocolate-brown hair that fell to her shoulders in waves, startling violet eyes, and lush pink lips in an angular, pixie-like face. She was slender and willowy, yet still had some nice curves outlined by the tight black and red robes she wore. In front, the robes ended just above the knee, allowing for a high pair of leather boots, but in the back, they were longer, flowing out behind her as she walked. She held a golden staff nearly as long as she was tall in one hand, with a wicked looking blade on the top. "You're most welcome," she said as she stopped in front of him, smiling wryly as he pulled his eyes up from the impressive length of her legs to meet her gaze. "Mind telling us what you were doing fighting the Flint company?"

"Oh, were they a mercenary company?" Mardin asked, shrugging. "I had thought they were bandits; but then, some mercenaries are little better than bandits. Anyway, it was a complete accident. I was merely making my way along the path when I ran into them and they decided to try and kill me. I apologize if you wanted to interrogate them," he went on, sheathing his sword and strapping his shield back on, having decided an attack was not imminent. "When I get attacked, I tend to kill first and ask questions later, I'm afraid. Or never."

The woman grinned, her eyes lighting with amusement, and Mardin felt an intense surge of desire that surprised him. Many male shifters had a weakness for pretty women, liking nothing better after a fight than to bed them, and Mardin would be the first to admit he was probably one of the worst. Still, there was something about her that affected him more strongly than he would have expected. Perhaps her enticing scent had something to do with it; it was a mixture of citrusy fruit and vanilla, as near as he could tell, and it was already driving him crazy.

He tried to keep a firm rein on his unruly lust as she said, "I can see that. My name is Brianna Hawke. This is my brother, Carver" - pointing to the young man with black hair – "and our companions, Fenris" - pointing at the man who'd previously been glowing – "and Varric." She finished by pointing to the golden-haired dwarf, whom Mardin noted with surprise was beardless, now that he could see him closer. He did, however, appear to have a great deal of chest hair showcased by his half-open red and gold tunic.

"A pleasure to meet you all," Mardin answered formally, sweeping them a bow. "I am Captain Mardin Trichlor, of the Order of Avallonne, at your service." He winced as soon as the sentence was out; he was so used to introducing himself that way that it had come out automatically. He'd wanted to try to blend in as much as possible, but it seemed that would be unlikely now. At least he'd not slipped entirely and added his shifter name to the introduction.

The dwarf chuckled. "You're not from around here, are ya, Red?"

Mardin frowned slightly at the obvious reference to his flaming hair before shrugging it off. "Is it that obvious?" he asked instead.

"Oh, definitely," Varric said cheerfully. "I know everybody there is to know in Kirkwall, and I'd remember if I heard any stories about you or this Order of yours. Judging by the way you went through those poor saps, I'm sure there must be stories. So where are ya from?"

"I'm from a country called Fallor," Mardin replied hesitantly. Part of him wanted to give them a false name, but he didn't know the names of any countries in this world in order to properly lie about where he was from. Cranin had not known anything about this world, or if he had, he'd never told Mardin. He decided it would be easier to tell the truth as much as he could, in case he slipped up later, and that he would just have to hope this world was large enough that not everyone would know the names of all the countries. The only thing Cranin _had_ told him was that some worlds did not know about the existence of other worlds, and might have difficulty accepting where he was truly from. He was supposed to keep it quiet until he knew for sure whether he could tell them or not.

"Never heard of it," Varric replied briskly. "What about you, Broody?"

A long-suffering sigh came from the elf that the question was apparently directed to; for Mardin could tell that he was indeed an elf, now that the tip of a pointed ear was visible among Fenris's strange white hair. The glowing, Mardin decided, must have come from the odd white tattoos snaking along all the visible parts of the elf's body. The majority of his body was covered in some type of form-fitting, spiked black armor with equally spiky gauntlets. Oddly, he appeared to be going about barefoot rather than wearing any boots. The elf studied Mardin for a long moment before shaking his head. "There is no such country near Seheron, nor any other place I have been."

"It's not anywhere near Ferelden, either," Brianna added, clear curiosity in her tone.

"It's quite a small country, and very far away," Mardin said quickly. "I wouldn't be surprised if none of you have ever heard of it."

"Then what brings you all the way to Kirkwall, and the Wounded Coast?" Carver demanded suspiciously.

"I'm looking for my sister. She went missing almost three years ago." That much was true enough, Mardin thought. He just couldn't tell them that he also had to find some sort of destiny here that he was strongly beginning to suspect these four were a part of before he went looking for her. "I have no idea if she's here, though," he added reluctantly.

Brianna frowned. "Why come all this way if you had no clues to bring you here?"

"Well, coming here in general was sort of an accident, too," he confessed. They would find out soon enough that he'd basically been dumped here with nowhere to stay, no supplies and no money. Cranin had said the less he brought through the portal with him, the easier it would be, so he had nothing but his weapons and what he wore. He would need their help, meaning there was no point in pretending that he'd arrived here on purpose and was prepared. "I actually had no idea where I was until you said it."

"But how did you get here? Were you shipwrecked?" Brianna asked, studying him carefully as she strapped her staff to her back.

"Uh . . . yes, I was." Mardin latched onto this idea with relief. It was the best and, at this point, likely the most plausible explanation for why he was here on a coastline with no idea where he was. "I'm afraid all I have is what I'm wearing. I lost everything else, money and all, and I have nowhere to stay."

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that." Brianna smiled at him sympathetically, and he thanked the Goddess that no one was asking him any more detailed questions right now that he couldn't answer as she went on, "We can help you."

"How?" Carver demanded in obvious exasperation, throwing his hands up in the air. "We barely have any place to stay ourselves right now, Bree!"

"Well, no," she admitted reluctantly, "but surely Fenris can spare a room in that mansion he's staying in, at least for now. Can't you, Fenris?" She turned to look at the elf, and though Mardin couldn't see the look she was giving him, he could see the slight softening in the elf's stern façade.

"I suppose he could stay. For now," the elf conceded grudgingly, turning to Mardin. "As long as you are prepared for the possibility of attack at any moment. The mansion belongs to my former master, and he could come some day to try to reclaim it."

_Former master_? Though Mardin was curious as to what Fenris meant, he decided not to push it for now, instead saying, "I'm always prepared for an attack, and I appreciate your generosity. If there's anything I can help with in exchange, I'd be more than happy to provide my services." It was about as close as he could get to outright asking if they had some sort of destiny he could help fulfill.

Brianna's face brightened at his words. "Actually, I'm planning an expedition that I could use some help with. Right now, we're taking on various odd jobs to raise the funds for it. That's actually why we were here, tracking down the Flint company." She nodded at the bodies around them. "They killed Starkhaven's royal family, and the last living member wants revenge. There's one more group of them we have to find. But we're also out here hunting down Tal-Vashoth. A lot of the work we're doing involves fighting, and since you seem to be handy in a tight spot, we could really use you. Of course, you'd get a cut of each job, too. And I'll help you look for your sister, when we have time. Somebody around Kirkwall might know something."

Mardin stared at her, surprised that she'd even offer to help find Ayla. It was generosity that he hadn't expected; payment and a place to stay were more than enough in exchange for a sword hand. "You don't have to do that," he told her. "I'd be happy for the help, of course, but it's more than a good enough deal as it is."

She shook her head, looking determined. "You don't know anyone around here; you need the help. If _my_ sister was still - that is –" she cleared her throat, blinking, and Mardin didn't miss the sudden brightness of her eyes. "Family is important," she finished at last, and Mardin darted a quick glance at Carver, who was looking away, his jaw working. Clearly there was a story there, but he wouldn't pry. Not yet.

"It is," he agreed softly. "Thank you for the offer. Anyway, you said you were looking for . . . Tal-Vashoth? What are they?"

"They're outlaws of the Qunari," Brianna explained, and Mardin tried to look as though this made sense to him as she went on, "A dwarf named Javaris hired us to get rid of them hoping it would please the Arishok, and he would get the recipe for the Qunari's explosives because of it. They're supposed to be somewhere along this coast. It seems to be a favourite place for mercenaries, outlaws, and bandits to have picnics." She rolled her eyes.

"Well, why not? There's all the fresh air, an ocean breeze, probably some unsuspecting travellers to prey on – what more could they want?" Mardin answered, grinning, and she shook her head at him, though she looked amused. "Anyway, I'd be happy to start by helping with these Tal-Vashoth. Lead the way."

She nodded. "All right. Let's take whatever we can use here," Brianna said, turning to the other men, "and we'll head further along the beach and see if we can find any sign of them."

The others nodded, and begin to efficiently check the bodies over for money or any useable items. Mardin took the opportunity to unabashedly help himself to a water skin and some of the food the mercenaries had been about to prepare for themselves while he waited for the others to finish. Once they were done, the party began to head back the way Mardin had come, following the winding path along the rocky coast, climbing higher into the hills.

As they went, Mardin fell back next to Varric and questioned the dwarf as to whether he'd seen or heard anything about Ayla, figuring that this would be his best place to start. He described Ayla at length, only to have the dwarf shake his head. "Sorry, Red, I haven't heard anything around Kirkwall about her either," he said. "I don't think she's here, unless she's not the type to stand out much."

"Oh, believe me, if she was here, you'd know it," Mardin replied. If there was one thing Ayla was definitely good at, it was being right in the middle of trouble. "I suppose I'll just have to keep asking around."

"Well," Varric said thoughtfully, "you could try asking Blondie. He just got to Kirkwall a couple of months ago from Ferelden, and he used to be a Grey Warden. They travel around a lot; he might have heard something about your sister."

"He means Anders, a mage that helps us sometimes back in Kirkwall," Brianna supplied over her shoulder, smirking at the dwarf as she went on, "Varric has difficulty using people's actual names."

"Bah, don't listen to Hawke." Varric waved his hand at Brianna. "She's just jealous that I haven't given her a nickname."

"Because they're so original?" Mardin said dryly, winking at Brianna when she laughed.

"What, you don't like Red?" the dwarf asked. "What about Captain?"

Before Mardin could reply, a shout came from the path up ahead, and Brianna held up her hand to halt everyone. An incredibly large, horned man came down the hill, warning them about the Tal-Vashoth up ahead, and Mardin could only guess that this man had to be one of the Qunari that Brianna had referred to.

These Qunari had to be a type of race that Mardin had never seen before, he realized, one that did not exist in Fallor. There were elves and dwarves to be had back home, but he'd never seen anything like the man that was speaking to Brianna right now. Aside from the two large horns running back along his head, his white hair and strangely grey skin, the man was a good deal larger than any human. Mardin himself was one of the tallest and largest men in the Order, as well as taller than any of his current companions, though he only had a few inches on Carver and Fenris, and yet he was at least a head shorter than this Qunari, not to mention smaller overall. He wasn't used to being so much smaller than someone, and honestly found it a trifle intimidating.

After delivering his warning about the numerous Tal-Vashoth lying in wait up ahead, the Qunari walked past them and left, declining to help with the attack, and Brianna directed all of them to continue up the path. True to the other Qunari's word, they were attacked by three more of the monstrous race further along the path. Mardin met one of the Qunari head on while Carver and Fenris matched up with the other two, leaving Brianna and Varric to attack from a distance. Not for the first time, Mardin found himself incredibly grateful for his increased strength as he fought; it was a big help in matching the outlaw blow for blow. Fortunately, the Qunari warrior was rather slow, as well, and in the end, Mardin took him down without suffering any serious injuries himself, as did the others in the party.

The rest of the fight against the Tal-Vashoth went much the same; they made their way further inland along the twisting path, coming across the outlaws in bands of two or three at a time, and with the combined efforts of the party, they defeated them without too much difficulty. It was the cave they came across at the end that proved the most difficult, as it held nearly a dozen of the Qunari outlaws. Mardin was tempted to shift, but not knowing how his new companions would react, since shifting wasn't always well received even back home where it was common, he restrained the urge. He made sure to use his strength to full advantage, however; at one point, he succeeded in sending one of the Qunari flying backwards into two others.

Still, had it not been for Brianna's rather impressive magic, ranging from fireballs and ice spells to paralysis spells and healing spells, Mardin was quite certain they would have lost. As it was, the fight was a near thing, as he or one of the others barely avoided crushing blows from the Qunari warriors. He did pick up a few injuries, as did Fenris and Carver, but between Brianna's healing spells and the healing potions the others carried, everyone's wounds were closed over by the end of the fight.

Once they were certain the cave was clear, Brianna declared that they were done for the day and the party headed back to Kirkwall. By the time they reached the sprawling, multi-level city, it was nearly dark, and Brianna directed them to the mansion Fenris was staying in first, in the area of Kirkwall known as Hightown. Once they reached the mansion, a rather large building of grey stone tucked away in a corner of Hightown, accessed by a heavy wooden door, Fenris entered promptly, telling Mardin he could come in when he was ready and pick whichever room he liked.

"We'll need to go see the Arishok tomorrow morning to tell him about the Tal-Vashoth," Brianna told Mardin as Carver and Varric headed off towards the area known as Lowtown, where the Hawke siblings and the dwarf lived, shouting back at her to catch up as they went, "but after that, I can take you to meet Anders and see if he's heard anything about your sister. And then, if you don't mind, I'd like you to come along with us to Sundermount. We need to look for a camp of Dalish elves so I can deliver something to them, and the rest of those mercenaries are supposed to be somewhere on that mountain, so I'm sure we could use your help."

Mardin nodded. "Of course. As I said earlier, I'm happy to help with whatever you need. And if there are any services I can provide for you personally, just let me know." He grinned at her, stepping just a little bit closer to her and that delightful smell of hers.

She raised her eyebrows at him, a smile twitching at the corner of her lips. "Oh? Is there something else you're good at besides fighting?"

"Warming your bed?" he suggested, restraining the urge to touch her until she actually said yes. "I can promise you I'm good at that."

She flushed bright red at his words, but recovered quickly, saying dryly, "I'm sure you are, but I'm afraid I have to turn down your generous offer. I barely know you, after all."

Mardin was just on the verge of asking if that mattered when he saw by the look in her eyes that it obviously _did_ , at least to her. He frowned. This, too, must be something that was different from back home. In Fallor, it didn't generally matter how well you knew someone; so long as you found them attractive and they weren't mated to someone else, you were free to ask them to share your bed whenever you pleased, and they were free to accept or turn you down. He had heard, however, that some of the other countries back home were not quite so liberal with their mating practices, and it appeared this new world was not, either. That was unfortunate; he wasn't used to going without a good post-battle romp, and he so _very_ much wanted to romp with this pretty mage.

"My apologies," he said easily, trying to cover up his disappointment. He'd just have to try again later, he decided; it didn't look like she was _completely_ against the idea. "I didn't mean any offense, I assure you. I suppose we're just a bit more forward with such things back home. If you change your mind later, though, let me know."

She shook her head, smiling wryly at him. "I'll keep that in mind. And don't worry about it; if I was offended, you'd know it. Anyway, I'll be back early in the morning to get you and Fenris, so be ready, okay?"

He nodded. "I'll be waiting when you get here. Good night – and thanks again."

"You're welcome," she replied, before turning to leave, calling a good night to him over her shoulder.

He stayed where he was for a long moment, watching the lovely sway of her hips as she walked away. Getting her in his bed was apparently going to be a challenge, but since when had he ever backed down from one of those? Especially when the outcome promised to be so rewarding. At least his new destiny looked to be interesting, he mused before turning and heading into his temporary new home.


	2. Are You Sure?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mardin goes with Brianna and the others to meet the Arishok; following that meeting, Brianna takes him to see Anders, who has some very interesting information about Mardin's sister.

Chapter Two: Are You Sure?

Mardin stood out in front of Fenris's mansion early the next morning, the elf on the other side of the door, waiting for Brianna to make her appearance. Mardin had actually slept surprisingly well in his new home last night, once he'd picked a room and cleaned it out. Fenris apparently had little interest in keeping the mansion he was squatting in clean, nor had he spoken much last night. He had, however, generously offered Mardin some wine and food. And honestly, Mardin was relieved that the elf hadn't wanted to speak much; any getting to know one another conversations would have raised a lot of questions that he wasn't prepared to answer yet.

He had no idea what sort of answers he would provide to anyone who pried deeper into his admittedly weak cover story, so at the moment, his best hope was that no one would bring it up. And the easiest way to make sure of that was to not pry into anyone else's past, either. Which meant that Fenris might actually make the perfect roommate for him, as he suspected that the elf had a dark enough past that he didn't wish to share it with anyone unless he had to. He could only hope that the rest of his new companions would be as willing to leave his past alone as Fenris seemed to be.

Brianna finally appeared around the corner at the moment, her incredible scent preceding her. Mardin had not thought it possible for her to smell even better than she did yesterday, but it seemed he was wrong. Nor had he exaggerated his body's reaction to her, he realized as the bright smile she gave upon seeing the two of them waiting sent another jolt of desire through him. Well, he decided, that wasn't a bad thing. He'd been getting a little bored of the women at home, to be honest. Brianna, he suspected, would be anything but boring once he succeeded in getting past her defenses.

"Mardin, Fenris, good morning," she called as she walked up to them, stopping a few feet away. "Nice to see that you're both ready and waiting to go."

"Hawke." Fenris nodded in greeting. Mardin frowned a little; he'd noticed yesterday that both Fenris and Varric referred to Brianna by her last name rather than her first, and he didn't know the reason why. Certainly he had no interest in calling her Hawke unless she asked him to, so until she said otherwise, he'd keep calling her by her first name.

"Good morning, Brianna." He gave her a little bow, adding, "You look even more beautiful this morning than you did yesterday."

He could see the light flush that passed across her cheeks, even as she shook her head at him, smiling. "And you, good ser, are remarkably persistent."

"So I've been told," he replied easily. "That doesn't make what I said not true, however."

"Uh-huh," she remarked skeptically, though he was pleased to note that she couldn't seem to stop smiling. "Anyway, we should get going. We have to meet with the Arishok and Anders before we leave for Sundermount, and Carver must have spent the night getting drunk with Varric, since he never came home last night. We'll have to go by the Hanged Man and pick him and Varric up on our way to the Arishok, so we have no time to waste. Let's go."

She turned to go without even waiting to see if the two of them followed, and Mardin smiled to himself as he fell in line behind her along with Fenris. She might pretend she was unaffected, but he was definitely making progress.

Fenris drew up alongside him as they were still several paces behind Brianna, asking quietly, "Do you honestly expect something like that to work with Hawke?"

Mardin cast a considering look at the elf. He couldn't quite tell if Fenris was more curious about his methods or skeptical. "It's certainly not going to hurt. Trust me, Fenris, no woman dislikes being told that she looks beautiful."

Fenris made a non-committal noise in response, looking thoughtful, and Mardin decided that it must have been curiosity that prompted the question as they hurried to catch up to Brianna.

She led them through the streets of Hightown and down a flight of stone steps to the area of Kirkwall known as Lowtown. In this part of the city, the streets and buildings were made of plain white stone, instead of grey marble, and the streets were a good deal smaller, smellier, and more crowded. The buildings, too, were smaller and all scrunched together, often sharing the same wall rather than being spaced apart. Mardin decided that overall, he didn't much like the place, particularly the strong smells of unwashed bodies and sewage.

The Hanged Man, it turned out, was a tavern in Lowtown, a two story building made of the same white stone as the others, with bars over its ground floor windows and an odd set of metal double doors for its entrance, above which hung a wooden dummy suspended by its feet. Varric and Carver were waiting out front when they arrived, and Carver definitely looked as though he'd spent the night drinking, his clothes and hair rumpled and his eyes bloodshot. Varric, on the other hand, looked fresh and alert as he waved them over.

"Don't start with me, Bree," Carver snapped as soon as they were within earshot. "I'm old enough to make my own decisions."

Brianna held up her hands, shaking her head. "I didn't say anything, Carver."

"You were going to," Carver retorted. "I could see the look on your face."

"Come on, Junior, give Hawke a break, would ya?" Varric asked with a sigh. Mardin could tell this was a common occurrence, as Varric seemed already weary of mediating between the two. He found it odd that the two siblings got along so poorly; though he and Ayla had gotten into some disagreements, it was usually only over each other's safety in a fight, and never lasted long. He couldn't even imagine his sister being as bitterly angry as Carver seemed to be, and wondered what the underlying issue between the two was.

"Let's just go," Brianna said after a moment, obviously choosing to ignore Carver's anger. "The docks aren't far from here."

She walked on past the tavern, and Carver and Varric fell in line without any further comment. It took them only a few more minutes to reach the docks, which appeared to be an extension of Lowtown, an area consisting of more white stone streets leading down to various wooden docks extending out into the nearby ocean. Brianna stopped in front of a large wooden gate where a Qunari guard stood watch with an immense spear. "Let me pass. I have business with the dwarf Javaris, and your Arishok."

The long look the guard gave her made Mardin's hand itch with the desire to have his sword in it, but just as he was tempted to draw it, the guard gave her a short nod. "The short mouth, yes. Enter, if you must, basra."

The guard stepped aside, and the wooden gates were opened from within the compound. Brianna walked through without hesitating, and Mardin and the others followed. The compound was enclosed on all sides by stone walls, and a wide set of stone stairs led up directly in front of them, with balconies on either side. Qunari warriors were everywhere, ranged along the balconies on either side and littered here and there at the top of the steps. Mardin could feel the tension in the air, as his instincts clamoured of the possible imminent danger, making his hand itch even more and the hairs on the back of his neck rise. One wrong word in here, he knew, and all these warriors would descend on them. He stuck close to Brianna's side; her magic might be impressive, but physically he had a much better chance of standing up to a blow from a Qunari warrior. Fenris, as if thinking the same thing, stayed close to her other side, while Varric and Carver walked directly behind her as she made her way up the stairs towards the end of the compound.

A sandy-haired dwarf with a beard, wearing red and gold patterned silk, waited at another, smaller set of stairs at the other end of the compound, below a dais with an impressively large chair, not unlike a throne, at the top. At the moment it was empty, however. Seeing them approach, the dwarf called up the stairs to another guard, "Ah, my right hand arrives! Summon your Arishok – the bargain is done!" Turning to Brianna, he added in a low voice, "About time you showed. I've been here for hours."

Brianna frowned as they stopped a few feet away, not bothering to answer the dwarf, to whom Mardin had taken an instant dislike. He seemed like the very lowest sort of opportunistic type. Mardin was surprised that she was even working with this Javaris, but he supposed she must need the money for that expedition she had planned. Which, now that he thought about it, he didn't really know anything about; it was something he would need to ask her about when he got the chance.

Before he could think further on that, however, another Qunari approached from the side of the dais, larger than any of them that Mardin had yet seen. This had to be the Arishok, as they called him, which Mardin assumed was the equivalent of a Qunari captain or something of the like. He had decided to not ask questions about this sort of thing unless he absolutely had to – he would simply observe and absorb as much knowledge about this world as he could, and hopefully this would enable him to not arouse anyone's suspicions about where he was really from. With this in mind, he studied the Arishok carefully, trying to note any differences beyond size. Unlike most of the other warriors, who went bare-chested and wore nothing but breeches, the Arishok wore immense red pauldrons on his shoulders, held in place by large straps criss-crossed over his chest, and a sort of blue skirting around his waist that hung over his breeches. He also bore a large gold collar around his neck, which must have been a way of denoting his rank, rather like Mardin's own armband. The Arishok sat down in the large chair, facing them, a Qunari warrior standing guard on either side of him, and another waiting at the top of the stairs, though Mardin doubted that he would actually need their help in battle.

Before the Arishok could say anything, Fenris stepped slightly forward, giving a brief bow before addressing the Qunari leader in what Mardin assumed was his own language. "Arishokost. Maraas shokra. Anaan esaam Qun."

Mardin wondered briefly if that had been planned, but saw by the quick look of astonishment that Brianna shot the elf that it obviously hadn't been. The Arishok appeared equally surprised, saying incredulously, "The Qun from an elf? The madness of this . . . place."

"Tell me that helped," Brianna murmured to Fenris.

Fenris shrugged slightly. "We shall see."

"He seems marginally less hostile than before," Mardin whispered to Brianna. His instincts were slightly less on edge, which was a good sign, and Mardin thanked the Goddess for whatever knowledge Fenris possessed of the Qunari, since he had no desire to fight these warriors if he could help it.

Javaris cleared his throat, looking up at the Arishok. "Yes, well, that said, I am here to report that your hated Tal-Vashoth were felled one and all. Right?" He looked quickly back at Brianna, who rolled her eyes before nodding. "Yes, they were. So I'm ready to open negotiations. For the explosive powder. As we agreed."

The Arishok leaned forward, studying the dwarf intently, who squirmed under his gaze, before saying, "No," with a chilling finality.

"He's not getting it," Javaris hissed to Brianna. "Make your chatty elf say something."

"What about it, Fenris?" Brianna asked, turning to him. "Any insight that would help?"

Fenris looked up at the Arishok consideringly. "Qunari do not abandon a debt. I humbly request clarification from the Arishok."

The Qunari leader leaned back in his chair. "I have a growing lack of disgust for you. The dwarf imagined the deal for the gaatlok. He invented a task to prove his worth, when he has none."

Fenris bowed his head. "Then we have wrongly inserted ourselves in your affairs. Would you have us kill this dwarf?"

Javaris whipped around, staring at the elf in alarm. "Wait. What now?"

"I'll do it," Mardin offered, trying to keep his lips from twitching in amusement at the matter-of-fact way Fenris had said it. He hadn't liked the dwarf from the start, and he doubted he would lose any sleep over killing him, particularly not if it would defuse the situation with the Qunari any. The dwarf cast a look of growing horror at Mardin.

The Arishok shook his head. "If you faced Tal-Vashoth, he is not worthy of dying to you. As he was not worthy of dying to them. But you . . ." he stared at Brianna long and hard, who met his gaze unflinchingly. "You keep good company. Let him live. And leave," he ordered his guards.

Brianna cleared her throat, stepping forward a little, and Mardin had to restrain the sudden urge he felt to pull her back. It was a protective impulse he had rarely felt for anyone other than his sister, and that bothered him more than he would like to admit, he realized as Brianna said to the Arishok, "He had big plans for your recipe. He had promised that some of those profits would come to us."

The Arishok's head whipped over to Javaris. "Dwarf, did your imaginary bargain make promises on my behalf?"

Javaris looked rightly terrified as he replied slowly, "I . . . expected your wisdom to be more profitable."

The tension in the compound went up several notches as the Qunari guards, who had sat down during the conversation, suddenly stood up and picked up their spears. Mardin found his hand going to his sword almost involuntarily as the Arishok got to his feet, snarling angrily, "Then you will pay, on my behalf."

Javaris threw up his hands in defeat. "Sod it all, take your coin. Take whatever." He rummaged in a pouch, producing a few large gold coins and handing them over to Brianna, who took them, tucking them into a pouch of her own. Javaris walked away as she did so, and Mardin could hear him mumbling as he went, "Horn-head ox-men and mongrel dog lords. Suck your own powder and blow your head off. Sod it!"

"You will leave as well, human," the Arishok said at last. "There's no more coin for you here."

Brianna bowed her head in acknowledgement, and turned, gesturing to the others to follow as she headed back to the gates they'd come in. They all followed, walking at a normal pace, though Mardin felt an unwelcome urge to turn tail and run. He normally welcomed a good fight, but even with his shifter abilities, he knew that compound was beyond him; his instincts would not have been warning him so powerfully otherwise.

They left through the gates, which closed behind them, and Brianna led them around the corner from the compound and down a ways before she stopped, leaning against a wall and letting out a long breath. "Maker," she gasped, "that's not something I want to do again anytime soon!"

"Well, if it helps, I couldn't even tell you were nervous," Mardin told her. His admiration for her had gone up several notches after she'd had the stone-faced nerve to essentially ask the Arishok for money. He'd met few women so recklessly brave, but it was something he found undeniably sexy when he did encounter it. As if he needed another reason to find her attractive, he thought wryly, before he asked the question burning a hole in his brain, "What are those Qunari even doing here, though? They don't seem like they want to be here."

Varric snorted. "They don't. Their whole fleet got shipwrecked off the coast a while back, stranding them here. The Viscount gave them that compound to stay in, but they've made it no secret that they hate Kirkwall. Funny thing is, it doesn't seem like they're trying to build a new fleet to leave – and no one knows why. By the way, Hawke, that was great new story material. 'Hawke versus the Arishok' – almost as good as the ogre."

"I'm so glad I can be an inspiration for your exaggerated storytelling, Varric," Brianna said dryly.

"Why, Hawke, I'm offended!" Varric exclaimed dramatically. "I don't exaggerate, I embellish. There's a big difference. All great storytellers embellish."

"Right, of course, big difference," Brianna drawled, rolling her eyes. "My mistake."

"If those Qunari have no plans to leave, that's not good," Mardin said quietly, glancing back over his shoulder towards the compound. "They're spoiling for blood, and if they don't get it soon, anything is bound to set them off."

"I doubt they will attack without a reason," Fenris mused, "but what is a reason to them may not be clear to the rest of us until it is too late."

"You're both probably right," Brianna said, glancing back at the compound herself with a frown, "but I don't think the Viscount has any clue what to do with them, and unfortunately, it's up to him."

"This Viscount doesn't sound like much of a leader," Mardin replied, frowning. He wondered if the Qunari and the Arishok had something to do with his destiny here. If so, he wasn't eager for the fight, but Cranin had not promised that his destiny would be easy.

"He's not," Varric said simply, "but he's the only one Kirkwall has, sadly. Anyway, we've got enough to worry about, with the expedition to plan. Where to next, Hawke?"

"Darktown," Brianna answered, nodding at Mardin. "I promised Mardin we could check with Anders about his sister before we leave for Sundermount."

"All right, let's go see Blondie, then," Varric declared. Mardin thought he caught Fenris muttering something that sounded like "abomination", but he couldn't be sure, as he lacked his sister's enhanced hearing abilities. He'd obviously heard something, though, for Brianna cast a quelling glance at the elf before starting off again for Darktown.

Mardin found himself feeling both nervous and eager as they went. He wanted news of his sister, and the others seemed to feel that this Anders would be a good source of that news, yet at the same time, what if what he found out was bad? Cranin had not been able to confirm for sure that Ayla was alive, merely saying that as far as the Goddess could tell, "the odds were good" that she was still alive. And pure-hearted though Cranin might be, Mardin wouldn't put it beyond him to exaggerate those odds if need be to make sure that he would go to this world and fulfill his destiny. Still, Cranin would not have lied outright, which meant there was at least a chance that she was alive and well. And there was no point in putting it off, he told himself. He would simply have to find out, and pray that the news was good.

Darktown turned out to be a series of tunnels below the city, making Lowtown look like a paradise by comparison. They had to have been sewage tunnels at one point, as well, as the smell of them was even worse than Lowtown had been. The smell was so disgustingly strong, in fact, that it made Mardin feel nauseous. The toxic fog that seemed to permeate the air down here probably didn't help either. In spite of these things, and the fact that there were no actual buildings down here, there were still many people scattered throughout the tunnels, with crude campsites set up here and there as places to live. Brianna explained as they went that many refugees fleeing something called the Blight in Ferelden had ended up down here, having no other place to live. The way she referred to the Blight made it obvious that it was something commonplace that Mardin should know about; he resolved to discreetly learn more about it when he had the chance.

As Brianna led them deeper through Darktown, she explained to Mardin that Anders was another mage with a particular talent for healing, who ran a free clinic down here for the many ill refugees. Mardin could tell that many of the people they passed by were sick or diseased, though that was unsurprising considering they lived in a place with such toxic air. He frowned, disturbed. He'd only been here for a day or so, and already he had seen many things wrong with just this city in this new world. No wonder Cranin and the Goddess were so worried about the balance in this world, if Kirkwall was an example of what things were like here. He wondered briefly if keeping this world from sliding into darkness wasn't more than he could handle, but shook the thought off. He would succeed, somehow; he had to.

They arrived at the clinic at last, which was built into a corner of the tunnels in Darktown, and was one of the few places down here that actually had a roof, though the entrance was merely an open wall next to a lit lantern. Inside, numerous cots were laid out, some filled with people, others empty for the moment. A curtain hung in the far back corner, sectioning it off from the rest of the room, and Mardin guessed that Anders must live back there. Brianna crossed the room, heading towards a man in robes at the back who was working on one of the patients, and Mardin followed her along with Varric. Carver and Fenris hung back at the entrance, obviously preferring to wait.

When the man had finished with the spell he was working on the patient, Brianna and Varric greeted him, and Brianna introduced him as Anders. He was a young man, likely in his mid-twenties, with slightly long blonde hair that he wore tied back at the nape of his neck, and a growth of stubble that he hadn't bothered to shave off. He wore heavy yellow and grey robes with feathered shoulders, and though he wasn't currently wielding a staff, there was a twisted one of grey wood leaning against the wall behind him to indicate that he normally did. Though he smiled pleasantly enough as Brianna explained who Mardin was and what he was doing here, there was something about him that made Mardin slightly uncomfortable, though he couldn't quite place what it was. Some slight tingling sense of underlying danger, or something? He wasn't sure.

"I'm not certain I can be of any help," Anders said as Brianna finished her explanation of why they were here, "but I'll try."

"It's nice to meet you," Mardin said, stepping forward to shake the mage's hand. Anders turned his attention away from Brianna as he shook Mardin's hand, frowning slightly as he got a better look at Mardin, studying him as though trying to figure something out.

"You as well," Anders replied absentmindedly, his gaze roving over the symbol on Mardin's tunic and finally landing on his golden armband. His eyebrows shot up as recognition clicked into place in his eyes. "Where did you get that armband? The Commander has one that he wears that's just like it, except it's silver."

The 'he' in the mage's statement was all Mardin needed to hear for his worst fears to be realized, and for his temper to snap, for he knew Ayla would never just sell the armband or hand it over without a fight. He grabbed the mage by the collar of his robes, lifting him completely off his feet and slamming him into the back wall of the clinic, ignoring the surprised cries of Brianna and Varric and a sudden feeling of danger as he snarled at Anders, "Where did your commander get that armband? Did he kill my sister?! Did he?! Tell me!" He shook the mage for emphasis, fury riding high in him, enough that he could feel his eyes change color and his canine teeth begin to lengthen as his control over his animal side started to slip.

Anders had been stammering in surprise and shock, clearly floored by the sudden turn things had taken, but instead of reacting with fear when Mardin's eyes changed color, as most people did, his expression cleared as if he'd realized something. "Wait, your sister – is her name Ayla? And she has red hair, like yours, except she wears it in a long braid?"

"Yes . . ." Mardin said slowly, some of the rage draining out of him. It was his turn to be surprised; Brianna had not given the mage his sister's name or a description, so it was obvious that Anders knew – or had known – Ayla. But – "Is she dead? How do you know her? What happened to her?"

"She's not dead, so far as I know," Anders replied, looking confused. "She's the Commander's wife, so I would guess she gave him the armband. I never did ask where he got it."

"His _wife_?" Mardin repeated incredulously, dropping the mage back to the ground, his rage completely disappearing in his utter shock. " _Ayla_? Are you sure?" If what Anders said was true, not only had Ayla become this man's wife, or whatever they called it here, she'd bonded with him too. That was the only reason she would have given him her armband, and not a reason that would ever have occurred to Mardin until now. Like him, his sister had never been the type that was interested in taking a life-mate, or any sort of serious romantic entanglement. And now, apparently, she'd not only taken a life-mate but had gone and permanently bonded herself to the man, by the sounds of it. He simply couldn't bring himself to believe it.

Anders straightened out his robes, and looked up at Mardin, frowning. "Yes, I'm sure. They wear wedding rings, they call each other husband and wife all the time – well, no," he amended, "she calls him her mate sometimes, I suppose. Why do you ask?"

"I'm sure they're . . . married," Mardin said faintly, stumbling over the term that was rarely used in Fallor as he tried to wrap his mind around the concept of his sister with a life-mate, "but are you sure this woman you're talking about is my sister?"

Anders raised his eyebrows, clearly completely confused by now. "You said your sister's name was Ayla, and she had long red hair in a braid, right?" Mardin nodded, still shocked. "She has green eyes, fights with two swords, and she's really pretty?" Mardin nodded again, though he couldn't help feeling slightly amused at the mage's obvious admiration of his sister's looks. He was used to men drooling over her; it had been commonplace back home. "Then why wouldn't you think it's her?"

Mardin frowned as he tried to put his confusion in words. It obviously _was_ his sister that Anders knew, for the description matched her perfectly, yet he couldn't quite bring himself to believe it. "Because the last time I saw her, she had absolutely no interest in being . . . married. She liked men, but she wasn't remotely serious about staying with any of them. And yes, it's been three years since I saw her, but could she really have changed so much?"

"I suppose the Commander must have changed her mind," Anders replied, shrugging. "They were already married by the time I met them, almost two years ago now, though I think it had just happened. And they're very much in love, almost embarrassingly so, really. Lots of . . . um, public displays. In fact," Anders was grinning now, "the Wardens at the Keep all had a bet going as to how many times a month the two of them would be found outside of their room being . . . indiscreet, shall we say?"

"Well, that part does sound like her," Mardin said wryly. His sister had never been shy about public displays of affection, that was for sure. And he'd heard once or twice that it wasn't uncommon for bonded mates to have difficulty controlling their desire for one another. Still, had she actually gone and bonded with this guy? It was obvious that a lot had to have happened while she was gone. "You said she's alive, though? Doing well?"

Anders nodded. "I'd say so. At least, as far as I know," he amended. "It's been a few months now since I left the Wardens and came to Kirkwall. She was alive and well then, but I haven't heard anything since, and the Wardens aren't exactly in the habit of staying safe. Nor is she; she insists on going out on missions with the Commander, whether he likes it or not." Mardin nodded, rolling his eyes; that _definitely_ sounded like her. If there was a fight or trouble to be had, she'd be in the middle of it. "You'd have to contact Vigil's Keep, the Warden headquarters in Ferelden, to find out for sure if she's still okay – and even then, they're sometimes gone for weeks at a time with no word." Anders was frowning now, as though the thought that something might have happened to Ayla in the time since he'd left was disturbing to him.

"Why did you leave the Wardens?" Mardin asked, suddenly curious. It was clear by the way Anders talked about them that he remembered his time there fondly, and Mardin couldn't see why anybody would voluntarily end up down here instead.

"It was for personal reasons," Anders said abruptly, his face now closed off. "I'd rather not talk about it. But it wasn't because I didn't like it there," he added after a moment. "I did, actually; I was treated very well there, much better than I'd ever been treated at the Circle. The other Wardens were good people, the Commander and your sister especially so. It was just that . . . something happened, and there was a difference of opinion, and I had to leave." He looked suddenly very sad, for a moment, which only made Mardin more curious than ever.

"Was it because of Justice?" Brianna asked quietly, having come up next to Mardin. Anders looked up at her, startled, and then nodded slowly.

"The Commander told me it was a mistake, letting Justice possess me, but I wouldn't listen," Anders said softly. "I said that letting Justice possess a friend had to be better than him haunting some corpse like a demon, and that he was just letting his former Templar nature cloud his judgment. It turned out he was right, though. I . . . lost control a couple of months later, like I did with Karl, when I saw a mage being mistreated, and . . ." he glanced at Mardin, backing up a few steps, "Ayla got hurt in the process, trying to stop me. She was fine, though," he added quickly, obviously seeing Mardin's scowl, "afterwards. When I realized what I'd done, I regained control, and I healed her immediately. But I couldn't face her after, or what I'd done, so I ran away, and eventually ended up here."

Mardin frowned, the quick flash of rage he'd felt at hearing his sister had been hurt calming down after Anders' explanation that he'd healed her afterwards. He didn't understand why the mage had fled, though, after hearing that it was a lack of control that had brought it about. He didn't understand the bit about Justice, either, though it sounded like some type of spirit, but he did know a thing or two about losing control. "Why leave? Ayla would never have blamed you for something like that," he said with complete certainty. No shifter would ever blame someone for losing control and accidentally injuring another person.

"She didn't," Anders agreed quietly. "She told me as much, before I left. I was the one that couldn't stop blaming myself, and I was afraid it would happen again, to one of the others. Besides, the Commander wasn't there when it happened, and I wasn't sure how he'd react when he found out I'd hurt her – and I didn't wait around to see." He shrugged. "It's better for them this way. There was enough controversy about the Wardens conscripting mages into their ranks – they didn't need a possessed mage around making things worse."

Mardin frowned again, wondering why there would be any controversy about enlisting the aid of mages; there was so much going on here that he didn't understand. He mentally added learning more about mages to his list of things to find out discreetly as Brianna said softly, "I'm so sorry, Anders. That must have been difficult, having to leave the Wardens when you liked it there."

"Well, I liked it, except for the Deep Roads and the darkspawn," Anders replied wryly, obviously striving for humor now, and Mardin sighed inwardly, adding two more things to his list. "But other than those two _tiny_ little things, yes, it was . . . good."

"Thank you," Mardin told the mage sincerely after he'd finished. "For telling me about my sister. And I apologize, for losing my temper. I'd been expecting the worst, so when I heard that someone else was wearing her armband, all I could think was that she'd been killed for it, and I lost control. I'm sorry."

"Well, if anybody understands what it's like to lose control, it would be me," Anders said matter-of-factly. "Don't worry about it, I understand."

"I think we have to get going to Sundermount now," Mardin continued, glancing at Brianna questioningly. She nodded. "But I'd like to hear more about my sister when we get back, whenever you have the time. I'll buy you a drink, and you can tell me what she's been up to, and about this . . . Commander of hers." He couldn't quite help the slight curl of his lip at mentioning his sister's life-mate. This guy had damn well better be worth the risk to his sister's life from the bond, Mardin thought, or he'd have a few things to say about it when they finally met. "If you don't mind, that is," he added. "I'd like to hear whatever you know."

Anders nodded, though there had been a slight twitch to his lips when Mardin had mentioned that Commander, as if something had amused him. "Of course," the mage said. "Stop by when you get back, and I'll tell you about my time with the Wardens and Ayla. You should see about sending word to the Keep, when you can. If she's out on a mission, she might not get it for some time, but I know she'll be happy to hear from you."

"I'll do that. Thank you, again." Mardin nodded at Anders in thanks before turning to Brianna. "Sorry about that. We can go now."

She studied him curiously for a moment, a slight frown on her face, and he guessed his sudden display of temper had been startling for her, but she said nothing about it, merely nodding before saying, "Let's get going then, it's a long way to Sundermount." She turned and headed for the entrance of the clinic, waving goodbye to Anders, and Mardin and Varric followed her, meeting up with Carver and Fenris outside the door.

Varric fell into place beside Mardin as they walked through Darktown, saying after a moment, "I can't believe your sister is the mystery woman of the Blight!"

"What are you talking about?" Mardin asked, startled, glancing down at the dwarf, who was beaming with excitement.

"The Commander of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden – Alistair Theirin!" Varric exclaimed, waving his hands in exasperation as if Mardin had missed something very obvious - and he probably had, he admitted. Mardin noticed that Brianna kept glancing back over her shoulder as if she were listening in as the dwarf went on, "There were two Wardens that defeated the Blight, the Hero of Ferelden, Aedan Cousland, who is now sitting on the throne of Ferelden with Queen Anora, and Alistair, who is supposedly the bastard son of King Maric. One of the stories that's been going around after the Blight is that he was set to inherit the throne, but he refused it because he was in love with some mystery woman that had fought the Blight with him. The story goes that she's some mercenary from Kirkwall, so the nobles in Ferelden would have never accepted her as a Queen, and Alistair wasn't going to be King if he couldn't be with her, so he refused the throne to stay with the Wardens and marry her, and the Hero of Ferelden took the throne instead. That bit about her being from Kirkwall obviously can't be true, because like I said, I'd know if she'd been here. I'm not even sure if that bit about Alistair being a bastard prince is true either, but if it is, well - what a story! Hardly even needs embellishment! I'll have to sit in on your drink with Blondie, if you don't mind, and find out how much of it is true." Varric rubbed his hands together with glee as he finished, practically vibrating with excitement, and Mardin could only stare at him in surprise. By the Fox, just what _had_ his sister gotten herself into?

Realizing that the dwarf was still staring at him, presumably awaiting a response, Mardin finally answered, "Yeah, I suppose you can." He couldn't see a reason why he shouldn't allow Varric to hear about his sister; it wasn't like what she'd been doing in this world was any great secret, obviously. He'd also realized that the most effective way to learn about things in this world would be to listen to Varric's stories, and the dwarf would be more likely to tell him whatever he wanted to know if he kept him happy. And the way to keep Varric happy seemed to be to keep him supplied with story material.

Varric grinned. "Great! I'll even buy a round. Maybe. It sure was a lucky coincidence that Blondie knows your sister, though."

"Yes, it was," Mardin agreed, though he suspected it wasn't really a coincidence at all. "It was a lot easier to find information on her here than I'd expected it to be."

"So," Brianna asked as she dropped back a little ways to walk on Mardin's other side, "are you going to head to Vigil's Keep in Ferelden now to find your sister?"

Mardin shook his head. "No, I don't think so. For one thing, I'd have no idea where to go, or have any money to get me there. For another thing, she might not even be around if I did manage to make it all the way there. No, I think it's just best for now that I send word to her. Maybe she'll be able to come here, or at least somewhere closer that I can meet her." Though all the reasons he'd listed were perfectly plausible, none of them was the real reason he wouldn't go, of course.

"So we're stuck with you, then?" Brianna said teasingly.

"Seems that way," he replied, grinning at her. "After all, I did promise to help, and I'm sure there are still _all_ sorts of things I can do for you."

"Oh, there are all sorts of fights you can help with, certainly," she said agreeably, smirking at him. "I'm sure I could probably even find some heavy lifting for you to do."

"Whatever my lady wishes," he told her, giving her an exaggerated little bow. He heard Carver mumble something behind him that sounded distinctly uncomplimentary, but chose to ignore it as Brianna laughed at him.

"Seriously, though," she said after a moment, "if you ever wanted to leave to go see your sister, you're welcome to. I wouldn't hold it against you."

He nodded. "I'll keep that in mind, thank you. But for now, I'll wait to hear back from her and find out just where she is. It's enough to know that she's okay; I can wait a little longer to see it for myself."

"All right," she said, taking up the lead again, "let's get going. We need to reach Sundermount as soon as possible, if we want to be back before dark."

"Lead the way, Hawke," Varric said. "I'd rather not end up camping out if I can help it."

As they headed out of Kirkwall, Mardin realized he felt lighter than he had in years; it was as if hearing that his sister was not just alive, but had been doing well since she'd left had lifted a heavy burden from him. He could breathe easier now, knowing that she was okay, and focus on the reason he'd been allowed to come here. He was fairly certain he was on the right path; all he needed to do now was to figure out what Brianna and the others were involved in that could change this world, and where he fit into everything. He would start, he thought, by finding out just what this expedition of Brianna's involved. The answer to his destiny had to be here somewhere, and he would find it.


	3. A Messenger?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke leads her companions to the Dalish, where they meet a young elven mage by the name of Merrill, and have a rather interesting encounter after her delivery of the amulet. Meanwhile, the more time she spends with Mardin, the more certain she is that he's lying to her.

Chapter 3: A Messenger?

Brianna glanced back over her shoulder every once in a while as she led her companions along the trail up Sundermount towards where the Dalish encampment was said to be. The trail was narrow enough at this point that they were forced to walk single file, and so she could not talk to any of them at the moment. Which she was actually all right with, at least for now. It seemed like she never got time to herself to think in Kirkwall. She didn't even have a room of her own to retreat to in that little hovel she was currently forced to live in with her family and her uncle Gamlen. Not that she was there often anyway, sometimes because she didn't have the time and sometimes just because she didn't want to be there; it made her sad that she couldn't do more for her mother and Carver right now, that she couldn't find them a better place to stay than that.

But she would change all that, with this expedition of Bartrand's; she had to. With the treasure she felt sure they would find and the fame that a successful trip would bring, she would be able to take back her family's estate, now that they had found the will that stated her mother should have gotten everything. This expedition would get them noticed, give them the fame and influence needed to get an audience with the Viscount. And, consequently, it should be able to keep her and her apostate status safe from the Templars, now that she didn't have Athenril and the smugglers to cover for her anymore.

She just needed to get the fifty sovereigns to buy into the expedition that Varric had told her they would need. She was getting steadily closer; with the money Javaris had been forced to give her, she now had approximately thirty sovereigns squirreled away. Her progress had been slow at first, when she had left her two years of indentured servitude with the smugglers and met Varric a year ago, but lately, with the jobs she'd managed to successfully complete and the way her reputation was growing as someone who could get things done for people without asking too many questions, her progress had grown rapidly. She'd gotten far more jobs in the last couple of months, with a good deal more money being offered in exchange. At this rate, she felt sure she should have all the money collected by the time the expedition was finally ready to go in two months.

What was even more surprising to her, beyond how successful she'd been, was the fact that she'd managed to collect companions to help her beyond her own family and Varric. Aveline had helped at first, but lately, since they'd uncovered the conspiracy that the former guard captain had been involved in and Aveline had been promoted, she'd become much too busy to help very often. She did still occasionally come along, but Brianna was reluctant to bother her with how much else Aveline had on her plate. Fortunately, she'd met both Fenris and Anders in recent jobs within the last couple of months, and after helping them each with the troubles they'd had, they'd agreed to continue to help her whenever she'd needed it. They'd been surprisingly helpful and loyal in their own ways, though both could be a trifle difficult to deal with at times.

She tried not to bring Anders along too often either, partly because he had his clinic to run and she didn't want to take him away from that, but also partly because of Justice and the way the spirit made him so volatile. She was a bit uncomfortable with the whole situation, especially when she could never quite decide if she fully trusted him not to lose it. Besides which, she was reasonably confident in her own magic abilities, and she hadn't run across many situations yet that she felt needed more than one mage. Fenris, however, she'd been happy to make frequent use of; though Carver was undoubtedly skilled, he was still young and brash and she worried about his safety in battle, possibly more than she should have. It made her feel undeniably better to have Fenris along to back her brother up. Varric, of course, nearly always tagged along; his skill with the bow and at detecting traps and picking locks made him nearly invaluable, and Brianna had come to trust him greatly and regard him as a dear friend.

Then, of course, there was the most recent addition to her odd little group of companions. Though she'd only encountered Mardin a little over a day ago now, it somehow seemed much longer, and she privately admitted, as she glanced over her shoulder once more to find him directly behind her still, that she found him the most intriguing by far. She was in time to catch him staring blatantly at her ass this time; when he looked up and realized she'd caught him as she stared at him with a raised brow, he merely smiled at her, a slow, wicked smile that made her body flush with heat, and then he shrugged as if to say he couldn't help it. She whipped back around to direct her attention to the trail again, willing herself to stop blushing.

So, yes, she found Mardin attractive, she admitted to herself. How could she not? He _was_ a very handsome man, with fiery red hair a few shades darker than Aveline's that he wore cropped closely to the sides of his head, but a bit longer on top, so that it gave him a bit of a rakish air when it fell over his forehead; the icy blue eyes that would darken several shades to a deep blue whenever he stared at her like he'd just been doing, which never failed to speed her pulse up and make her body tingle; the square jaw on his classically featured face which had a bit of stubble shadowing it at the moment, a few shades darker yet than his hair; and a surprisingly full bottom lip for a man that she had an insane urge to bite sometimes. And sinfully long eyelashes, to boot. It simply wasn't fair for a man to have eyelashes like that when she didn't. Add to that the fact that he was tall, with broad shoulders, and, she was sure, a well-muscled body beneath his tunic, given his obvious strength, and no woman could fail to find him attractive. And he knew it, too; his easy confidence and forward nature with her made that obvious. He was clearly used to having women hop into bed with him whenever he asked.

Which was precisely one of the reasons why she wouldn't say yes, no matter how tempted she was by the offer. She was by no means a blushing virgin, though she admitted she felt like it sometimes around him; she hadn't been this attracted to a man in a long time. But she'd had two previous lovers in Ferelden, so she was no stranger to how things worked between a man and a woman. Those men, though, she'd known for quite a while before being with them, and things between them had happened more naturally, more slowly. They had actually spent time together before becoming lovers. She simply couldn't bring herself to simply hop straight into bed with a man she didn't even know, no matter how desirable he was or how alluring the prospect was. And perhaps that little voice inside her head that insisted she shouldn't was more her mother coming out in her than her own opinion, but nevertheless, she couldn't seem to quiet it.

She especially wasn't going to hop into bed with a man that she didn't know, that she knew was also lying to her. Oh, he was good at covering it up, that was certain; if she wasn't an apostate, trained all her life to observe the people around her for the slightest sign of danger, for an inkling that they knew what she was, she probably would never have caught the signs. But she _was_ a successful apostate who had managed to keep both herself and her sister out of danger for many years, so she'd caught the quick flashes of confusion here and there in his eyes, indicating that he had no idea what she was talking about, or just a slight moment of uncertainty, as though he were scrambling for a satisfying explanation for something, before he'd smoothed his expression out or come up with an answer. She'd also checked with the docks this morning before going to meet him and Fenris, and discovered that there had been no recent shipwrecks within the last couple of weeks. Yet he'd clearly ended up on the Wounded Coast yesterday without knowing where he was; that was one of the only things she was sure he wasn't lying about. She just didn't know how he'd gotten there.

Then, of course, there was his daunting strength. He was a big, tall man, so of course he could be expected to be strong. But she'd never seen anyone send a Qunari warrior flying before, the way he had with the Tal-Vashoth. And Anders was nearly the same size as Mardin was, and he'd lifted the mage fully off his feet without so much as breaking a sweat. With one hand. And no more than an hour ago, he'd found the remaining Flint company of mercenaries in a small valley off the main trail with surprising ease – she still had no idea how he'd known where they were – and sent one of their warriors sailing through the air into two others during the ensuing fight, before killing all three of them with swift, powerful blows, while she and the others fought off the remaining seven mercenaries. No, there was something different about him, she was certain of it. Something beyond the fact that he'd ended up on the Coast without knowing where he was, and that he didn't know things that he should – which she had no explanation for, either. She just had no idea what the answers to any of the secrets he was hiding were.

She could just ask him, of course, but she highly doubted he would give her a straight answer. They didn't trust each other enough for that, not yet. She needed to build trust with him, and also collect more irrefutable evidence that he wasn't what he appeared to be, evidence that he couldn't brush off with explanations, before she confronted him. She could wait to find out, though; she was nothing if not patient. And, oddly enough, though she knew he was lying to her, she still trusted him at her back, and to keep her safe in battle. She didn't know _why_ she did, but she sensed that he was a good man, and she knew what it was like to have to keep a secret about yourself for your own safety.

Besides, whatever Mardin might be hiding or lying about, he was telling the truth about his sister going missing and that he was looking for her. Brianna was positive of that much; no one could fake the worry, fear, and anger he'd obviously been holding in until he found out what had happened to her. She just didn't know how his sister had gone missing or why it had taken him three years to find her when it seemed that there were stories floating around about her everywhere. No, that was as much a mystery as everything else, but she would figure it out eventually. It was clear that Anders knew something about Mardin's sister, at least, and he might be more willing to give her answers than Mardin would be. And that might give her the evidence she needed to find out who Mardin really was and how he'd ended up here.

"We're nearly there," Mardin said unexpectedly behind her.

She frowned, casting a quick glance back at him again, wondering how he knew, but she didn't say anything. Just as he'd predicted, however, around the next bend in the trail, she spotted two elves guarding the entrance to a small valley tucked at the base of Sundermount's rocky peak. One was male and one female; both had dark hair and were clad in light silver plate armor tinged with green, wielding swords. She walked up to the two elves, halting a few feet away when their eyes narrowed and their hands went to their swords, and the others stopped behind her in a loose group, now that there was enough space to stand together.

"Hold, shemlen!" the male elf barked. "Your kind are not welcome among the Dalish."

Brianna sighed inwardly. She'd never met any Dalish, but she'd heard enough tales not to expect a warm welcome from them, although this was an even chillier reception than she'd thought it would be. "Well, I wasn't expecting tea and cakes or anything," she said lightly, hearing Varric snort behind her as she tried to do what she did best; defuse the situation with humor, though it didn't look as though the elves appreciated it much. "I just need to give an amulet to someone named Marethari."

"How do you know that name?" the male elf snapped suspiciously.

"Wait!" the female elf exclaimed, holding up a hand to the male as he took a step forward. "This is the one the Keeper spoke of."

"A shemlen?" The male elf's eyebrows vaulted up in disbelief as he took a closer look at Brianna. "I thought she'd be an elf."

Brianna frowned, wondering how the elves had known she was coming even as the female guard said, "Enter the camp. Keeper Marethari has been waiting for you."

"Cause trouble, and you'll meet our blades, stranger," the male added threateningly, clutching his sword hilt briefly again before the two stepped aside to allow them passage.

"Yes, it's lovely to meet you too," Brianna muttered as she walked past the elves into the camp. The small valley was dotted with what appeared to be various wagons of some sort, covered in red, and there were numerous campfires set up as well, elves of every age gathered around them in small clumps or striding back and forth between them, going about various tasks. Glancing behind her, Brianna noted that the female guard was pointing to a fire off to the right, where an elderly elf woman stood, so she headed in that direction. The sooner she could get this over with and get out of here, the better, she thought, for she could feel the tension in the air as the Dalish stared at her party and hear some of the unfriendly mumblings as they walked by.

As they got closer to the fire, Brianna could see that the elven woman was even older than she'd expected, her hair wrapped up in a stark white bun and her face lined with wrinkles that cut through her tattoo, though her dark eyes were kind as she smiled slightly at them when they stopped in front of her. She wore grey robes trimmed with gold, topped with feathered shoulders, and had a staff strapped to her back, and as if that wasn't enough evidence that she was a mage, Brianna could sense a good deal of magic emanating from her as well.

She smiled slightly at the older woman. "Marethari? I was told to bring you this amulet." She fished the amulet Flemeth had given her during their escape from Lothering out of the pouch she'd kept it in at her waist.

"What is that?" Mardin demanded in sudden alarm, coming up to her side and gripping her arm as she brought the amulet out.

"It's . . . just an amulet," Brianna replied slowly, wondering at his reaction even as she felt a warm tingle from his hand on her skin. He let go of her arm almost right away when he saw her staring at his hand, looking apologetic, and she passed the amulet over to Marethari.

"No, it isn't," he said, not taking his eyes off the amulet as the elderly elf looked it over. Brianna studied him, taking in the way he stared at the amulet as though expecting it would attack at any moment, curious as to what prompted his certainty that it was dangerous. She had always sensed a slight bit of magic coming from it, true, but no more than from any enchanted object she'd come across. At least, not until they'd arrived at Sundermount, she realized. She hadn't fully noticed it before until she'd taken it out of the pouch, but the magic emanating from it now had increased nearly tenfold. But how did Mardin know that? He wasn't a mage, she was certain of that much. Just another thing to add to the list of oddities about him, she thought wryly.

Having finished her study of the amulet, the elven mage nodded formally at them. "Andaran atish'an, travelers. Indeed, I am Keeper Marethari. And as it happens, your friend here is right; this is not just an amulet." The Keeper cast a curious, searching glance at Mardin as though she, too, wondered just how he knew that. "But never mind that," she went on, "let me look at you." Brianna took a step or two forward as the older woman turned her dark eyes to her, studying her closely. "There is a light in your heart, human. Don't let it go out; you will need it. Tell me how this burden fell to you, child."

To this day, Brianna had no idea how to describe the crazy circumstances that had led to her family escaping the Blight. She'd heard the elaborate and overdone tale that Varric had spun for Mardin earlier on their way to Sundermount, but she had no idea how to put it in words herself. She shrugged. "Well, a dragon fell from the sky, charred some darkspawn to save me and my family, then asked me to bring you this amulet. And I like to keep the promises I make, especially to a dragon witch."

"Oh, Hawke. So unimaginative," Varric muttered behind her.

The Keeper smiled. "You are blessed by luck, then. I will pray that Mythal watches over your path."

"Are you the leader of these Dalish?" Brianna asked, curiosity overwhelming her. Did elves really let mages lead them? It certainly seemed that way, for the older woman had the air of authority around her. And what was with this amulet, anyway? What was so important about it? "Why did the witch tell me to bring this amulet to you?"

Marethari nodded in answer. "I am the Keeper of this clan. It is my task to guide my people and to ensure the old ways are not forgotten. As for Asha'bellanar, I am tied to her, just as you are, by a debt that must be repaid."

Well, that cleared up precisely nothing, Brianna thought, slightly annoyed. Maybe not _nothing_ ; Marethari seemed to like to talk in vague riddles for the most part, just like Flemeth; maybe that meant they were friends of a sort. "What exactly is this thing I've been carrying around?" she demanded, hoping to get some sort of clear answer for _something_ today. "Is it magic? What did you mean when you said it's not just an amulet?"

"It is a promise, child. Made by one whose word still has weight. And therefore it has terrible power. There are few things in this world stronger than a promise kept. Remember that." When Brianna just stared at her in response, frustrated with the increasingly vague answers she was getting, Marethari sighed and went on, "In any case, it is difficult to explain. It would be best to see for yourself."

"See it for myself? What do you mean by that? Wasn't I just supposed to bring the amulet to you?" Even as she said it, Brianna knew it couldn't be that easy. When had anything in her life ever been simple?

The Keeper shook her head. "I honor you for coming to me, but I'm afraid your part in this is not done yet. The amulet must be taken to an altar at the top of the mountain, and given a Dalish rite for the departed. Then return the amulet to me. Do this, and your debt will be repaid."

_That didn't sound so bad_ , Brianna thought, as she asked, "Are you going to teach me this rite for the departed?"

"I will send my First with you," Marethari replied. "She will see to it that the ritual is done. And when it is complete, I must ask that you take her with you when you go."

_Wait, what?_ Brianna stared at the older woman in surprise, wondering if she was joking. Take a Dalish elf with her, away from her clan? But there was no sign to indicate the Keeper was anything but deadly serious, and Brianna sighed. _Nothing but more questions_. "Who is your First? First of what?"

"Your people would call her my apprentice or heir," the Keeper explained, her voice sad, reluctant. "Merrill would have taken my place as Keeper. But she has chosen a new path. Please, guide her safely from here."

"If . . . that's what you want," Brianna said at last. She was sure there was something going on here, but she was equally sure that Marethari wouldn't tell her what it was. Still, she had no choice. She did have to keep her promise to Flemeth, and if that meant performing yet another favour along the way, she'd simply have to deal with it.

"It isn't what I want," the Keeper replied, shaking her head as she handed the amulet back, and Brianna tucked it back in her pouch. "But it is what she wants. You'll find Merrill waiting for you on the trail just up the mountain." The older woman pointed behind her, at a trail that wound steeply up the peak on the far side of the valley. "Dareth shiral."

Brianna nodded, turning and walking past the Keeper towards the trail that led up the mountain, the others following. "So much for an easy trip to deliver an amulet," she sighed once they were out of earshot.

"Well, and where would be the fun in that, Hawke?" Varric asked as he came up to her side. "How would I make a good story out of, 'and then Hawke gave a necklace to a bunch of elves'? It's much better if there's a mysterious altar and rite involved."

Brianna couldn't help but laugh at his response. One of her favourite things about Varric was how he never failed to cheer her up somehow. "Well, as long as you get a good story out of this, Varric, then I suppose somebody's happy."

"Oh, I'm sure it will be interesting, at least," Mardin said wryly from Brianna's other side. "Whatever it is, that thing is dangerous."

Brianna turned to him, noticing the still-wary look he was casting at the pouch that contained the amulet. "Just what makes you say that, anyway?"

A sudden uncomfortable look flashed through his eyes and was gone as quickly as she'd noticed it. He shrugged. "Call it gut instinct."

Before she could press further, which she fully intended to do, Fenris said quietly from behind her, "I hear something, up ahead. A strange noise."

They all cautiously approached the bend in the trail, hands on weapons, and Brianna had a spell ready to go as they edged around another rocky outcropping, enabling them to finally view the trail ahead. About another ten feet further up, a young, dark-haired elf girl was crouched at the side of the trail, turned slightly away from them, hunched over something in her hands. Brianna felt sure that there was magic emanating from the girl's hands, but as she stepped on a twig, snapping it, the young elf abruptly turned, noticing them, and the sensation was gone in the next moment.

_Well, no matter_. It looked like she'd just been playing around with a spell while waiting for them. Brianna continued forward at a more normal pace as the elf girl moved forward as well; this had to be Merrill, the Keeper's First. Like Marethari, she had a staff strapped to her back, and wore a long green tunic over a scaly black material that covered her arms and legs. The tunic was belted in place with leather, and she had leather gauntlets on her hands, as well. She was quite pretty, too, with a petite figure, short dark hair, and large, luminous green eyes in a delicately lovely face framed by a twisting black tattoo. Brianna heard an indrawn breath from Carver behind her, and smirked to herself. Her brother had always been a sucker for a pretty face. She wondered briefly if Mardin would flirt shamelessly with this elf girl, too, but when she looked over at him, he was glancing at her ass again. She shook her head, torn between exasperation, amusement, and no small amount of feminine pride. Maybe he wasn't as fickle as she'd initially thought.

"Oh, I didn't hear," the elf girl exclaimed anxiously as she came to a stop a few feet from them, her gaze bouncing over all five of them before landing back on Brianna in the center. "You must be the one the Keeper told me about. Aneth ara." She gave them a brief bow, before continuing on, "I'm so sorry, I didn't ask your name. Unless . . . it's not rude to ask a human their name, is it? I'm Merrill. Which you probably knew already. I'm rambling, sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Brianna replied, finding herself oddly endeared by the young mage's ramblings. "And it's not rude to ask my name; I'm Brianna Hawke. This is my brother, Carver, and our companions, Fenris, Varric, and Mardin." She indicated each of them in turn, and the men all offered their own greetings, though Carver's involved a lot of stammering and blushing. "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Merrill."

"Thank you. I'm afraid I'm not very experienced with your kind," Merrill explained nervously as she glanced at all of them again. "The Keeper said you came from Ferelden, right?" When Brianna nodded, the young mage went on, "I spent most of my life there. We only came north a few years ago. Have you been in the Free Marches long? Do you like it here?"

Brianna shrugged. Sometimes she missed her home, sometimes she didn't. She was never entirely certain how she felt about it. "I miss the cold. And the dirt. Kirkwall's not brown enough for me," she said jokingly. It was really more grey than anything, though here on Sundermount, it was all a lovely green. "But hey, no darkspawn!" she added, before saying more seriously, "But Kirkwall is a good place to start over."

"Ferelden wasn't that brown! The dirt and muck gave it character," Merrill protested, obviously feeling the need to defend her home, but when she saw that Brianna was grinning, she sighed. "Oh, right, you're joking. Well, I hope you're right about it being a good place to start over." The young mage looked briefly, incredibly, sad before continuing, "We should go. Your task is for Asha'bellanar. It's not wise to make her wait."

"Probably not," Brianna agreed, falling in next to Merrill as she turned and headed further up the mountain path. The others trailed behind them, and she could hear Mardin casually asking Varric for a story about darkspawn behind her. She frowned. He'd been getting Varric to tell him stories all the way here, and of course the dwarf had been happy to oblige. It seemed innocent enough on the surface, but she'd noticed all his requests had been about things he'd looked briefly confused about before, like the Blight, darkspawn and the Deep Roads. It only confirmed her suspicions that he didn't know things he should. But, she reminded herself, there was nothing she could do about it at the moment. She could, however, satisfy her curiosity about someone else. "So, Merrill, we didn't really get a proper introduction."

"Ah, of course," Merrill said hastily, glancing over at her briefly. "I am – or was, I suppose – the First to Keeper Marethari. I've studied the old ways for as long as I can remember. I know things – the lore of the Dalish – that can help us get to the summit of Sundermount."

Brianna nodded, absorbing this information, as well as how sad the young girl had looked when delivering it. It was obvious she wasn't overjoyed to be leaving her clan. "Just out of curiosity, why are you leaving the Dalish for Kirkwall?"

Merrill looked away, saying shortly, "I have to. Let's leave it at that for now, all right?"

Yes, there was definitely something more going on here than Marethari had said, Brianna decided. "I get the feeling you're in trouble," she said carefully.

"It's not like that!" Merrill protested. She frowned, amending, "Not exactly, anyway. The Keeper and I have disagreements, but it will sort itself out in time."

They had arrived at a bit of a plateau on the trail, and before Brianna could say anything in response to Merrill, a skeleton suddenly erupted from the ground in front of them, wearing tattered bits of armor and wielding a sword as it shambled towards them. "What in the Maker's name is that?" Brianna exclaimed.

"There are restless spirits that inhabit the mountain," Merrill explained quickly as she pulled her staff from her back, readying a spell as more skeletons erupted from the ground around them. "Sometimes they infect the dead and bring them to life. If you remove their head, they will fall again."

"Oh, lovely," Brianna muttered, grabbing her own staff and sending a concentrated blast of lightning at one of the skeletons shambling towards them, blowing its head off. "Everybody hear that?"

"Sounds like fun," Mardin declared, running past her and Merrill to slam his shield into one skeleton, sending it flying while he sliced the head off another. Fenris leapt past her as well, one swing of his greatsword separating the heads from two skeletons, and Carver followed, striking another one down. Merrill shot an arcane blast at one just to Carver's right, very nearly clipping him, but knocking the head clean off the skeleton. Brianna shook her head as she launched a blast at another, while Varric's bolts flew by; the elf was clearly not used to wielding her magic in close quarters with allies around.

She kept as close an eye as she could on Merrill's magic while they fought off the inordinately large amount of skeletons, but the elven mage managed to succeed in bringing down a few more skeletons without striking any of their party members, though it was a close call more than once. Finally, the last of the skeletons fell, and after waiting for a moment to see if any would get back up, everyone put their weapons away.

"So," Brianna began casually, "the Keeper didn't mention you were a mage." She had known right from the start, of course, but it was obvious from the looks on Fenris and Carver's faces that they hadn't.

"I imagine it's difficult to give away something nobody wants," Fenris added darkly.

Brianna shot a freezing glare at Fenris; she liked the elf well enough most days, but they'd argued more than once on his dire opinion about mages, for obvious reasons. She noted the surprised and disapproving look Mardin sent his way, as well. Fenris had the grace to subside when she glared at him, and Merrill colored a bit at his words, but obviously chose to ignore them.

The young elf looked earnestly at Brianna as she explained, "All Keepers know a bit of old magic. The stories tell us that all elvhen once had the gift, but like so many things, it was lost. It's a Keeper's job to remember, to restore what we can."

_Interesting_ , Brianna thought. So the Dalish not only allowed mages to be their leaders, but it was apparently a requirement that their Keepers possessed magic. She was briefly jealous of the Dalish, even as she asked curiously, "Can't demons possess Dalish mages?"

Merrill nodded sadly. "It can happen, and when it does, the clan must hunt and kill their own Keeper."

_The clan hunts them? What about Templars?_ Brianna wondered. Having been chased by Templars so often herself, it seemed odd that the Dalish held no such fear. "Does the Chantry know about the Dalish mages?"

"Oh, they know," Merrill said with certainty, nodding. "Keeper Marethari told me that was one of the reasons we never camped too long in one place. They usually won't pursue us if we stay away from cities and towns and keep moving."

"And no one minds having to pick up and move, over and over, just to protect a few of you?" Carver demanded. Brianna cast a weary glance back at him. That had been a frequent argument during childhood, when their father had insisted they had to pack up and move yet again for her sake or Bethany's sake, and Carver had protested, saying that he had friends, and wondering why they couldn't just stay for once. Lothering was the longest they'd been able to stay in one place, until the darkspawn had come.

"Why would they mind?" Merrill asked, clearly puzzled, and Brianna had to smile when Carver flushed and stammered, suddenly tongue-tied and unable to provide an answer with Merrill's big eyes trained on him. "Once we've picked over a hunting ground, there's no reason to stay. But my clan is now in more danger, having lost our halla."

"You know that you'll be in more danger than they are, if you go to Kirkwall," Brianna said softly. "You'll be an apostate in a city full of Templars."

Merrill shook her head, looking sad and defeated. "I know, but if I don't go to Kirkwall, I'll be alone. A solitary elf is easy prey for anyone. In the city, I can get lost in the crowd."

"I suppose," Brianna agreed after a moment. She really wanted to know what was so bad as to drive the elf girl away from her clan, but it wasn't her place to ask. "Anyway, I'm glad you decided to pitch in back there."

"Oh!" Merrill exclaimed, looking surprised and pleased, and Brianna reflected sadly that it was probably one of the first times she'd been thanked for using magic. "You're welcome. I wasn't sure I'd be much good. I've done a little fighting before, but it was always alone. I'll try not to hit anyone. On our side, I mean. I'm babbling again. Let's go."

Brianna nodded, letting Merrill take the lead again as they continued up the mountain, and decided that her mind was made up. She couldn't let Merrill run around Kirkwall alone; she'd have to try to keep an eye on the sheltered, inexperienced, naïve girl as much as she could, and teach her how to stay away from Templars and fight properly. Maybe she could even be of help with the expedition, eventually.

She dropped back a little ways to talk to Mardin as they went, seeing that Varric had gone up to ask Merrill some questions about the Dalish. "You don't have a problem working with another mage, do you?" she asked him softly. She doubted that he did, but her question had another purpose that was confirmed in the next moment when he looked down at her.

There was just the briefest flash of frustrated confusion in his eyes before his expression went carefully blank. "Why should I?" he asked mildly. "They've never done anything to me, besides help, that is."

"Oh, I don't know, maybe that whole demon possession thing? You know, when a mage succumbs to temptation and lets a demon take them over, they turn into abominations? Monsters," she clarified when she caught that confusion again. "Horrible, deformed monsters that attack everyone around them. That's why most people have a problem."

"Ah, of course, abominations," he agreed. He was quiet for a moment, something dark and unreadable passing across his face before he added, "Mages aren't the only ones capable of becoming monsters, you know. So no, until someone has given me a valid reason not to trust them, I won't judge."

She looked at him in no little shock, wondering just what he had meant by that. Was he merely referring to the fact that people were capable of doing awful things to each other without magic, or was it something more? She couldn't deny being pleased with his answer, though, and not just for Merrill's sake but for her own. "You won't judge, huh? That's nice to hear," she answered, unable to help smiling at him, and the genuinely bright smile he gave her in return made her heart skip a beat.

Before either of them could say anything further, Brianna noticed that they had arrived at another plateau, where a male elf with long dark hair wielding a bow and arrow was stationed at a campsite. Two paths diverged away from the plateau, one leading into a cave in the mountainside. He stood up as Merrill approached, stalking up to her with anger stamped all over his face. "So the Keeper finally found someone to take you from here."

"Yes," Merrill replied shortly, barely looking at him as she stopped and Brianna and the others came up next to her.

"Then finish your task quickly, human," the elven archer snapped at Brianna out in front. "We cannot be rid of this one too soon."

Varric raised his eyebrows from Merrill's side. "I'm sensing a story here."

"I have made my choice," Merrill told the other elf determinedly, but he was already brushing past her and walking straight at Brianna and the others, rudely bumping his way through as Merrill called after him, "And I will save our clan, whatever you think." The elf ignored her, continuing on his way down the mountain along the path they'd come up.

"What's going on here, Merrill?" Brianna asked, frowning as she watched the rude elf go. Just what could this girl have done to deserve that kind of treatment from her own clan?

Merrill shook her head sadly. "Nothing. Just ignorance. We should go."

Brianna felt as though she should say something more, but Merrill was already walking away, heading towards the cave entrance, so she simply followed. The others came along behind as well, all looking either disturbed or uncomfortable, with the exception of Fenris, who was expressionless as he most often was.

Merrill paused at the entrance to the cave, glancing back at them, the look on her face achingly sad. "I'm sorry. You're not really seeing the Dalish at their best. We're good people that look out for each other. Just not today, apparently."

Brianna had never been the best at comforting words, so she opted for humor instead, saying lightly, "But the Dalish are delightful! I was just thinking of inviting the whole clan over for tea."

Merrill frowned. "I'm sure they'd never accept an – Oh. Right. Sarcasm." The confusion on her face cleared, and Brianna shrugged apologetically as the young mage continued, "Even if my people don't appreciate my efforts, I must see this through. Let's go. Asha'bellanar isn't known for her patience."

They followed Merrill into the dark, dank cave, comprised of several small rooms and obviously fairly frequented, for there was even a set of wooden stairs built in leading up to a higher area in one cavern. There were also, however, several large spiders and more undead skeletons rising from the ground as Merrill led them along, forcing them to fight their way through the cave. Fortunately, between the six of them, none of the fights were too difficult, and they were soon out the other side, onto a level, circular area surrounded on three sides by a steep drop. Off to their left, a glowing blue barrier blocked the only way forward, a small entrance between two pillars. Brianna could see what looked like numerous stone monuments and graves on the other side.

"I can open the way forward," Merrill declared, striding towards the barrier. "One moment."

Brianna watched curiously, wondering what sort of old Dalish magic would be used to dissolve the barrier, but she wasn't prepared for what happened next. Merrill pulled a dagger out of her belt with her left hand, and slashed the palm of her right, causing blood to fountain forth. Instead of spilling to the ground, the droplets spread upwards into the air into a morbid cloud of red as Merrill lifted both hands before shoving them forwards towards the barrier. The barrier busted apart like so much shattered glass, leaving the way beyond clear as the blood disappeared as though it had never been there.

Brianna could only stare, appalled. She had _felt_ the wrenching shift in the veil, the sensation of something awful being called forth when Merrill's blood had spilled. Had she really thought this elven girl sheltered and innocent? She suddenly, clearly understood the reason why Merrill was leaving her clan, why the archer had treated her so rudely. Blood magic was never to be used. Her father had drilled that lesson into her and Bethany early on; it was the one line never to be crossed in magic, for it inevitably led down the path to ruin. It was never okay to use; he had been very clear, very emphatic about that.

"Blood magic. Foolish, very foolish," Fenris said heavily, shaking his head as he looked at Merrill. Carver looked appalled, too, for though he was no mage, he'd heard their father's lectures on blood magic nearly as much as Brianna had. Varric merely looked sad, and Mardin's expression had already shifted to careful blankness; Brianna had little doubt he'd been confused again about everyone's reactions, but she'd already missed the moment.

"Yes, it was blood magic, but I know what I'm doing," Merrill explained hastily, clearly alarmed at their reactions. "The spirit helped us, didn't it?"

"Sure," Brianna said sarcastically. "Demons are very helpful . . . right up until they take your mind and turn you into a monster."

Merrill frowned slightly. "Well . . . yes. But that won't happen. I know how to defend myself."

Brianna shook her head, restraining the urge to shake the girl and ask her if she was insane. It was obvious that Merrill was blind to the problems with what she was doing; if her own clan hadn't convinced her that blood magic was wrong, there was no way a stranger could. "That's what everybody says, until they can't say anything anymore," she murmured.

Merrill looked away, saying quickly, "We should go, we're nearly there. But be careful up ahead. Restless things prowl the heights."

She was right, as it turned out; not far beyond the former barrier, just as they'd passed most of the monuments and were heading towards the large stone altar on the edge of the cliff, they were attacked by several more undead, along with a few spirits that were surprisingly strong. The undead posed no difficulty, but the spirits, especially some kind of shadow warrior, were probably one of the toughest fights Brianna had ever faced. She had to admit, had it not been for Merrill's help, as well as the combined strength of the rest of the party, they might not have all made it through. As it was, she had to heal several small wounds on the three fighters, and thought, not for the first time, that she needed to get Carver some actual armor. As soon as she could afford it, she promised herself, after the expedition. And perhaps something for Mardin, too; he clearly needed something better than the light chainmail that showed through the slashes in his tunic, already rent in places, and the equally light vambraces and greaves he wore on his arms and legs.

Once the fight was done, Brianna handed the amulet to Merrill, who approached the altar of stones bearing a strange blue-green flame in an urn, directly at the edge of a cliff overlooking a massive drop leading out into the mountain range. She performed some sort of strange ceremony involving a lot of chanting in Dalish; Brianna soon gave up trying to memorize all the words she didn't recognize. There was a flash of normal fire as the ceremony finished and Merrill tossed the amulet in, followed by a golden light that flared up so bright Brianna had to shield her eyes. She could hear a strange flapping sound as she did so, like wings, and then the light disappeared.

Brianna looked up, blinking, to see that Flemeth, the dragon witch herself, had appeared in front of the altar. She looked much the same as the last time Brianna had seen her in Ferelden, wearing what appeared to be formfitting armor of red dragon scales, overlaid with spiked steel gauntlets and high spiked greaves, black feathers sprouting from her shoulders. Most of her long white hair was somehow spiked back into horns, the remainder hanging loose down her back. She stood there, hands planted on her hips, exuding a frightening amount of power as she regarded all their stunned expressions with amusement shining out of her piercing golden eyes. Brianna could hear what sounded like a faint growl coming from her right, and turned to see Mardin there; he looked extremely tense, his hand on his sword, watching Flemeth with narrowed eyes as though he expected her to attack them all with no warning. Which, Brianna admitted, could be possible; she had no idea what strange motives the witch held.

"A witch!" Fenris snarled from Brianna's other side, reaching for his sword as well.

Merrill put up her hands, shaking her head at them, indicating they should all calm down. "It's all right, Fenris, she means us no harm." Merrill turned back to Flemeth. "Andaran atish'an, Asha'bellanar." The young elf finished the greeting with a deep bow, staying bent over.

Flemeth watched her coolly. "One of the people, I see, so young and bright. Do you know who I am, beyond that title?"

"I know only a little," Merrill murmured, staying where she was.

"Then stand," Flemeth told her. "The people bend their knee too quickly." Merrill straightened up hastily as the witch turned to Brianna. "So refreshing to see someone who keeps their end of a bargain. I half expected my amulet to end up in a merchant's pocket." She shrugged, going on, "In the end, I did not need it, but one can never be too careful."

"Well, you know, I did try to sell it, but no one wanted to buy it," Brianna said flippantly. She knew she was probably pushing it, but frustration tended to make her snarky, and in any case, Flemeth had seemed to enjoy her sarcasm rather than be offended by it before. "Maybe because it had a witch inside?"

"Just a piece," Flemeth answered, smiling slightly as she went on, "A small piece, but it was all I would have needed if things had gone differently. A bit of security, but in this case, it merely summoned me back here."

Her gaze had left Brianna as she talked, roaming over the others and studying them carefully, until it finally snapped over to Mardin, the witch's eyes widening just a fraction, but enough for Brianna to notice. "Ah, it appears you have finally arrived," Flemeth said to him, "but I had not expected to meet you myself. There is, however, someone else who has waited a long time for your arrival."

_Finally arrived? What was that supposed to mean?_ Brianna wondered, startled, glancing over at Mardin, who sucked in a breath of surprise, exclaiming, "My sister! You've met her?"

The witch smiled slightly. "As a matter of fact, I have, though I have not seen her in some time now. She has done well with her new destiny, it would appear. We shall see if you do as well with yours. There is much to come."

"Where is she right now?" Mardin demanded, stepping slightly forward with his fists clenched. He seemed to have gotten over whatever had been alarming him about Flemeth as he faced her straight on now. "Do you know? Is she still okay?"

"Worry not," Flemeth told him mildly. "You will find her well enough on your own, though perhaps not where you were looking."

It appeared Flemeth was more cryptic than ever, Brianna thought wryly, though she couldn't help but find it very interesting that Flemeth seemed to know so much about Mardin and his sister. And what was all this talk of destinies and arriving? Her first instincts, it appeared, had been quite right. There was far more to Mardin than met the eye, but Flemeth was the least likely person to give her a straight answer. She would have to talk to Anders soon, she decided; he might be able to tell her something that would answer her questions, since it seemed that no one else would at the moment.

"You are no simple witch," Fenris declared as Flemeth finished her statement to Mardin.

"Figured that out yourself, did you?" Flemeth asked dryly, smirking at the elf.

Fenris frowned, ignoring the jab as he said, "I have seen powerful mages, spirits, and abominations. But you are none of those things. What are you?"

"She is a Messenger, she has to be," Mardin murmured, more to himself than anyone else, it seemed, and Brianna looked at him again, curiously. A Messenger? What in the Maker's name was that?

Flemeth cast an amused glance in Mardin's direction, obviously having heard what he'd said, and chuckled, before turning back to Fenris. "Such a curious lad," she drawled. "The chains are broken, but are you truly free?"

Fenris recoiled slightly, a look of surprise flashing over his face, and Brianna couldn't hide her own surprise. How had Flemeth known that? Just what sort of powers did this dragon witch have? "You see a great deal," Fenris said after a moment.

Flemeth studied him for a minute longer, before finally giving him yet another one of her cryptic answers. "I am a fly in the ointment. I am a whisper in the shadows. I am also an old, old woman. More than that, you need not know."

"So what now?" Brianna asked at last, her mind whirling with all the questions she now had. Flemeth had only made her curiosity that much worse. "You have plans, I take it?"

"Destiny awaits us all, dear girl," Flemeth said simply as she turned back to her. "We have much to do. But before I go, a word of advice?" She paced over to the edge of the cliff, looking out over the mountains beyond before glancing back. "We stand upon the precipice of change. The world fears the inevitable plummet into the abyss. Watch for that moment . . . and when it comes, do not hesitate to leap. It is only when you fall that you learn whether you can fly."

"Well, I imagine it's much easier to fly when you're a dragon," Brianna remarked dryly, more than a little frustrated with Flemeth's vague allusions to destiny. Why was it so hard for the witch to just say what she meant? To just tell Brianna what she needed to watch out for?

Flemeth watched her, a glint of amusement in her eyes as if she knew what Brianna was thinking. And maybe she did, Brianna thought sourly, as the witch shrugged. "We all have our challenges."

"Are we going to regret bringing her here?" Carver asked quietly, having come up on Brianna's left side.

"Regret is something I know well," Flemeth said, her gaze now piercing through Carver, who looked uncomfortable at being the center of the witch's attention. "Take care not to cling to it, to hold it so close that it poisons your soul. When the time comes for your regrets, remember me." She turned to Merrill, next, saying with the most gravity Brianna had yet heard from her, "As for you, child, step carefully. No path is darker than when your eyes are shut."

Maybe she _could_ see into people's minds and futures, Brianna thought wonderingly. She'd certainly nailed Merrill's problem, in any case. Merrill didn't meet the witch's eyes as she replied, bowing low again, "Ma serannas, Asha'bellanar."

"Now the time has come for me to leave," Flemeth declared. "You have my thanks . . . and my sympathy." She looked straight at Brianna as she said this, and it gave Brianna a sudden chill down her spine. Great. Sympathy from a dragon witch could only mean her destiny was something awful. Flemeth turned away, heading to the edge of the cliff where she was suddenly enveloped in a glowing golden light, which spread outwards and upwards into the form of the immense dragon she had been the day she'd saved Brianna and her family from the darkspawn. As soon as the light disappeared, Flemeth leapt off the cliff, soaring away across the mountains, through the cloudy sky of the late afternoon.

"By the Goddess," Mardin whispered as he stared after her, seeming to forget that the others were there. "A dragon . . . like King Escal."

Brianna nearly groaned in exasperation. Like she needed to add more mysteries to the ever-growing pile! She was done for today, she decided. She needed to stop thinking about all of this or else her brain was going to explode. "Well, that was fun," she declared, turning back to the others. "Let's not do that again. We need to get back to the camp, so we can get to Kirkwall before dark. We only have a few hours of daylight left."

"That _was_ fun, Hawke!" Varric exclaimed, scrambling after her as she headed for the cave determinedly, not bothering to see if everyone else was following. "I never thought I'd get to see your darkspawn dragon savior myself! Honestly, I always thought you'd been the one to embellish that, but there really _is_ a witch that can turn into a dragon!"

"Yeah, I know it sounds completely unbelievable when I tell it, but there you have it." Brianna waved behind her at where Flemeth had disappeared. "A cryptic, mind-reading, fortune-telling dragon witch that keeps popping out of nowhere and talking about my destiny. Even you couldn't make that one up."

"Too true," Varric agreed as they headed back into the cave. "The best stories are the ones so far-fetched I would never have dreamed of coming up with them in the first place. I'll have to think on this one for a while; I don't think it needs embellishing."

"No, it really doesn't," Brianna muttered. "But hey, if you come up with any explanations for all the cryptic fortune-telling, let me know. I'm too tired to puzzle it out myself right now."

"Will do, Hawke." Varric began whistling cheerfully as he went along, whipping out a small journal and scribbling away hastily in it. Brianna sighed. Well, if he was going to write it all down, maybe she could read it later and figure it out then.

It didn't take them long to return to the camp, and they stopped briefly by Marethari's fire to say good-bye before they left. The Keeper tried once more to talk Merrill out of leaving, but the young elf seemed determined, and in another few moments, they were leaving the Dalish camp.

No one talked much on the way back; Brianna suspected they were all as exhausted and confused as she was, and by the time they reached Kirkwall, it was growing dark and the first stars had begun to appear in the night sky. They took Merrill to the alienage first, though Brianna wanted nothing more than to go to sleep, and she sighed when she saw the dawning horror in the young mage's eyes as they arrived in the small, squalid corner of Kirkwall where the elves lived. It was really just a tiny square, with each elf living in a small, cramped room built into the walls around the edge of the square. In the center was a stunted looking tree, and there were a few booths along another wall selling some wares, and some crates stacked here and there among the garbage and the hollow-eyed elves still wandering the area.

"Elgar'nan," Merrill gasped, looking around them. "Is this . . . is this really where the elves live?"

"Yes, this is it," Fenris said shortly, looking equally displeased at the treatment of his fellow elves.

"Not the prettiest part of Kirkwall, but it doesn't have a view of the giant chains," Varric said, in an obvious attempt to cheer Merrill up. "Take what you can get."

"I didn't think it would be so . . . so . . ." Merrill looked slowly around, shaking her head. "I've never seen so many people in one place before. It seems so lonely."

Brianna sighed. As tired as she was, she couldn't stand to see the poor girl looking so depressed. Somehow, she really _was_ a naïve, sheltered blood mage, as odd as it sounded, and in spite of the blood magic, Brianna still wanted to help her and cheer her up. She simply couldn't find it in her heart to condemn the young elf. "Well, think of it as an adventure!" she exclaimed, trying to make her voice as cheerful as possible. "It will be fun . . . eventually," she amended, when Merrill looked at her in obvious disbelief.

Merrill smiled tremulously after a moment, nodding. "Some adventurer I am. Barely set out, and I'm already daunted. Thank you for everything. For all your help." Her face was full of sincere gratitude and hope as she went on, "Will you come visit me? Not now, of course. But maybe later? I could use a friend."

Brianna nodded, unable to help the smile that came to her face at the elf's sincere sweetness. "Of course. But only because you used that 'you kicked my puppy' voice."

Merrill beamed at her. "Thank you. I'm thanking you too much, aren't I? I mean it, though."

"You're welcome," Brianna said gently. In the end, they left Merrill in the care of the alienage's leader, who had apparently been informed by Marethari about Merrill's arrival beforehand, and he took Merrill to a room of her own as they all left to make their way home for the night. Brianna noticed that Carver looked back for a long moment before hurrying after them, and couldn't quite decide if she was amused or alarmed that Merrill being a blood mage didn't seem to have affected her brother's developing crush any.

They headed for Lowtown next, and at the Hanged Man, Varric asked if they all wanted to come in for a hand of Wicked Grace and a drink. Carver agreed immediately, and to Brianna's surprise, so did Fenris. She shook her head, however. "I'm far too tired, Varric," she told her dwarven friend. "I'll have to take you up on that another night."

"I'll have to turn you down too, I'm afraid," Mardin said with a shrug. "I don't have the energy left to learn a new card game tonight."

Varric nodded. "Next time, then," he declared, before heading inside the Hanged Man, Carver and Fenris following.

"Do you need me to show you the way back to Fenris's place?" Brianna asked as the two of them headed away from the tavern.

Mardin shook his head. "No, thank you, I remember. I'll walk you back to your place, though."

"You don't need to do that," she protested. "I can take care of myself."

"Of course you can." He nodded agreeably. "Normally. But you're tired and you've used a lot of magic today, right?"

She sighed, and nodded reluctantly. She had, and she didn't have any more lyrium potions at the moment, nor much magical energy left to produce a spell if she needed to. "You have a point, I suppose. Just this once, then."

He grinned at her. "Good." As she led him in the direction of Gamlen's house in Lowtown, he looked back briefly at the Hanged Man and chuckled. "Seems your brother is interested in Merrill, hmm?"

"It does seem that way, doesn't it?" Brianna smiled in spite of herself. Carver hadn't shown interest in a girl in a while, not since they'd left Ferelden; maybe this would be good for him, in spite of the whole blood mage thing. "I'm surprised _you_ didn't flirt with her," she added.

"Me?" He looked at her in surprise. "She's pretty enough, I suppose, but she's not my type."

"Really? I would have thought 'female' was your type," Brianna said teasingly, though she was half serious about it. Mardin did strike her as the completely shameless flirt sort of a man, and it was one of the reasons she found herself cautious about her attraction to him.

He cast her a wry look. "Do you really think me so shallow? I'll have you know that I do have a type. I like my women feisty, like you."

"Feisty?" Brianna raised her eyebrows. True, she wouldn't have used that word to describe Merrill, but . . . "You really think I'm feisty?"

"You really think you're not?" he asked her in return, grinning.

"Well, I suppose I might be," she admitted after a moment. It might not have been the first word that came to her mind when she thought of herself, but she supposed it did apply.

"You are feisty," he confirmed for her, his voice taking on a low, husky quality that made her shiver as he went on, "and you're recklessly brave, unbelievably compassionate, astonishingly beautiful, and you smell . . . amazing. Like vanilla and citrus. You are so _very_ much my type."

How did he know that she bathed using the vanilla and lemon soap that her mother had taught her and Bethany how to make in Ferelden? she wondered, astonished. Her face was bright red by now, she knew, and her pulse was racing and her defences melting at his charming words. Fortunately, she spotted the stairs up to Gamlen's place at that moment, just ahead of them. "Well, we're here," she said, slightly breathlessly, as she stopped by the stairs, looking up at him as he stopped as well.

It was difficult to see his eyes in the darkness, but she didn't doubt they were several shades darker than normal, and she could feel every inch of the charged space between them as he looked down at her, but he didn't move any closer, obviously waiting for her to give him permission. She really, really wanted to, but she still didn't really know anything about him, she reminded herself fiercely. And just because he hadn't flirted with Merrill, didn't mean she was anything more to him than another feisty conquest to add to his list. But it was really hard to remember that after getting such a head-spinning compliment. _Maker_ , was she in trouble. "Thank you for walking me home . . . and thank you . . . for that compliment. It was one of the nicest things anyone's ever said about me."

He smiled at her. "And every word of it was true, so you are most welcome. But it is still not enough, I take it?" She forced herself to shake her head no, not quite able to get the word itself out. "That's fine. As you pointed out, I am remarkably persistent. Have a good night, Brianna, I'll see you in the morning."

"Yes, the morning," she managed to get out, pleased that her voice sounded reasonably even. "We'll figure out what to do next." She did need to find some more jobs for the expedition; she would look through her mail in the morning and decide where they would go next, she reminded herself.

"Indeed we will," he smirked at her, his tone laden with suggestion before he turned and walked away.

She watched him go for a long moment before she recovered the brainpower to head up the stairs. Yes, she was very much in trouble when it came to Mardin. But perhaps, once she knew him better and knew what he was hiding, it would be all right if she allowed herself to have fun for once, wouldn't it? She couldn't recall ever being this attracted to a man before, and it would be a shame to waste such attraction, after all. She didn't always have to be the responsible one, no matter what her mother thought, she decided, before turning and heading into the house.


	4. It's Always Been My Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brianna goes to Anders hoping to get some answers about Mardin, which Anders refuses to provide. She and Mardin later go to visit Sebastian Vael, and Mardin finally tells her a few things about himself before they head to the Bone Pit with Carver, Fenris and Varric. What was supposed to be a simple job turns into a far more complicated fight against dragons than Brianna was expecting.

Chapter Four: It's Always Been My Job

Having woken up shortly before dawn, Brianna took the time while she was eating her breakfast to check through the pile of mail that had been accumulating over the past few days while she'd been busy. In the end, she decided that she would take on the task of finding some missing Fereldan miners today. She hadn't thought much of the mine's owner, Hubert, when she'd met him briefly the other day, but if the fellow Fereldans he'd employed were in danger, she couldn't very well abandon them. She doubted anyone else that Hubert might have asked would bother to endanger themselves for Fereldan workers, as most of Kirkwall had a fairly low opinion of the Fereldan refugees. Therefore, it would be up to her to ensure that her countrymen were safe.

The only other letter of any import was from the Templar Emeric, who had been looking into the disappearance of a mage named Mharen. Brianna had run across him while looking for a missing woman named Ninette. Her husband Ghyslain had been the one to ask Brianna to look for her, though she suspected he really only cared about his own name being cleared in his wife's disappearance, and not whether she returned alive. Still, the deeper she'd dug into it, the more apparent it had been that Ninette had not just run away from her husband, but that something bad had indeed happened to her – and likely to the mage Emeric was looking for, as well.

Emeric's letter stated that he thought the Lowtown foundry would be a good place to look for the missing women, as someone had reported seeing a woman of Mharen's description enter the foundry some time ago, and many people had heard mysterious noises coming from the foundry at night. His letter concluded that he thought it would be best to explore the foundry at night to see if the rumours of the noises were true or not, but that he no longer wished to risk his life in the search after his near miss in Darktown when they'd met, and she could do what she liked with the information he'd recovered. Brianna decided that she would have to check it out tonight, as she was indeed worried about what was happening to these women, and why they were all disappearing after receiving white lilies from an admirer. She would wait until tonight, however, and see if she could confront whomever was behind these disappearances directly.

In the meantime, she decided, she would go to the Chantry and let Sebastian Vael, the Starkhaven prince, know that all the Flint mercenaries that had been responsible for slaughtering his family were dead, and then she would head out to the disturbingly named Bone Pit, the mine that Hubert owned, to look for the missing miners.

Firstly, however, Brianna elected to make a quick visit to Anders in Darktown, hoping that he'd answer some of her questions about Mardin and who he really was. Throughout her breakfast and reading of her mail, questions about him that had cropped up from yesterday had been endlessly nagging her until she thought she might go insane. Carver was still sleeping, having gotten back from the Hanged Man late last night, so she decided to leave him where he was for the moment as she headed off alone to Darktown. She'd get him and some of the others on the way back before she left Kirkwall for the Bone Pit.

For once, Anders wasn't in the middle of treating someone when she arrived, likely due to how early in the morning it was, but was instead sorting through a stack of herbs on one of the tables in the clinic. He looked up when she approached, smiling slightly. "Hawke! To what do I owe this visit? Do you need help again?"

"Well, in a manner of speaking," she replied slowly. "I actually had some questions I was hoping you might answer."

"Of course." He turned to her, folding his arms as he leaned back against the table. "What would you like to know?"

"Well," she began hesitantly, though she watched Anders' face closely, "I think Mardin is hiding some things from me, like how he actually got here, for starters. He says he was shipwrecked, but I checked at the docks and there haven't been any shipwrecks recently. And I can tell that he doesn't know about things that he should, but he also . . . knows some things that he shouldn't. There's just something unusual about him, and since you know his sister quite well, I thought you might have some answers for me."

"Answers about what?" Anders asked carefully, his expression now blank instead of friendly and open.

Brianna sighed, having the distinct feeling that she would not be getting her answers here, but she pressed on anyway. "Where he's really from, who he really is, what he's hiding from me. Those answers."

Anders frowned. "Shouldn't you be asking him those questions?"

"It would be rather pointless," Brianna retorted. "If he trusted me enough to tell me the truth in the first place, he would have told me the first time I asked. You've known me longer than he has, though; you must know that you can trust me."

"It's not about trusting you, Hawke. It's . . ." Anders sighed and shook his head. "It's not my secret to tell. I . . . made a promise."

"What do you mean, you made a promise?" Brianna asked, trying her best to keep her voice even and quell her frustration. "You can't have promised Mardin already; you only just met him yesterday."

"Not to him," Anders said quietly. "To Ayla, and Commander Alistair. I've known them far longer than I've known you, and they saved my life. I owe them."

Brianna sighed, her frustration rapidly dissolving. Anders was right; he'd known Mardin's sister and her husband for nearly two years, by the sounds of it, and fought by their side. She couldn't expect him to betray a confidence like that. But the fact that he'd made a promise only proved her right; there was something that both siblings were hiding about themselves, and she was still no closer to knowing what it was. "I'm sorry, Anders, you're right. I can't ask you to betray a promise like that. I just noticed a lot of . . . inconsistencies, yesterday, and it's been bothering me."

"It's no problem, Hawke," Anders responded softly. "I'm sure it must have been frustrating for you." He hesitated for a moment, studying her carefully. "I can tell you that he's not just hiding things to deceive you, or out of malice. He's doing it to protect himself, and his sister, of course. And once he knows that you can be trusted, that you'll . . . believe him and not betray him, I'm certain he'll tell you himself. You just have to give it time, that's all."

Brianna frowned. While what Anders said relieved her, for the most part, not all of it made sense. "What do you mean, that I'll believe him? What wouldn't I believe?"

Anders shook his head. "I'm sorry. I really can't say anything more about it."

Brianna nodded, sighing, trying not to let her frustration build back up again. The whole exchange had only made her more curious, if anything. Still, it was nice to know that her instincts had been right, and that at his core, Mardin was still trustworthy. If anything that he'd been hiding was truly dangerous to her, she was sure Anders would have told her. She would simply have to wait until Mardin himself told her, even if it drove her crazy in the meantime.

"Thank you for telling me what you could, anyway," she said after a moment, and Anders nodded. Deciding she wanted at least some of her curiosity satisfied today, she asked, "Can you at least tell me how they saved your life? Was it while you were fighting darkspawn?"

Anders laughed. "Wardens don't really keep track of how many times they save each other's life when fighting darkspawn. It would get a little out of hand. No, it was when I first met them. I'd been captured by Templars during one of my many escapes from the Circle, and they had me imprisoned at Vigil's Keep when the darkspawn attacked. All the Templars were slaughtered, though not before one let me out of the cell to help fight the darkspawn. So of course it looked suspicious, a live mage out of his cell surrounded by dead Templars, no matter whether there were dead darkspawn there too. A Templar commander named Rylock was more than willing to condemn me as a murderer, and I have no doubt she would have had me executed after that battle, had the Commander not decided to conscript me under Ayla's advice. She knew I was telling the truth when I said I didn't kill those Templars. And later, when Rylock caught me trying to destroy my phylactery to make sure the Templars could never come after me again, and was going to kill me, Grey Warden or no, they stood up for me again. They didn't let her take me. Being with them and the Wardens was the most freedom I'd ever had. As long as I did my part, I could do whatever else I wanted and go where I wanted. I owe the two of them more than I can ever repay for saving me and giving me that life, so I won't betray their trust, even if I'm not really a Warden anymore."

"I'm sorry," Brianna said softly. "I've never been in the Circle; I can't imagine what that must have been like for you." Though her family had been chased by Templars more than a few times, they'd never been caught, and she'd never had to deal with being imprisoned in the Circle, or having to fear execution or the Rite of Tranquility for something she'd done. She couldn't really know how it had felt for Anders to finally escape all that, but she could see how the faith Mardin's sister and her husband had put in him had inspired such loyalty from Anders in return. There were few people that would have taken a mage's word so readily, or stood up to a Templar for them, and she wondered what had inspired such faith, considering the circumstances they had found Anders in had been very suspicious. "How did Ayla know that you weren't responsible?"

Anders looked suddenly uncomfortable, the reminiscent smile vanishing from his face. "Oh, um, she just had a feeling, she said. An instinct that she could trust me."

_Call it gut instinct_. Mardin's words from yesterday flashed in her mind, so similar to what Anders had just said that Brianna's curiosity piqued again. "Instinct, huh? Funny, Mardin said something like that yesterday, when I asked how he knew something was dangerous. That's quite a coincidence, wouldn't you agree?" When Anders opened his mouth to reply, looking slightly alarmed, she waved him off. "I know, I know, you can't say anything about it. I'm guessing, however, that if Mardin says he has a bad feeling about something, I should listen?"

Anders relaxed, smiling slightly, and he nodded. "I certainly would. Let's just say that he and his sister have very good instincts, so if he says something is dangerous or that you can or can't trust somebody, I would believe him."

Yes, this whole thing was definitely very interesting, Brianna thought. She would have to work hard at gaining Mardin's trust, so she could unravel this mystery as soon as possible. In the meantime, she would simply have to store up the clues that she learned. "Thank you, Anders," she said sincerely, nodding at her fellow mage. "I'm sorry to have bothered you . . . and I'm sorry that things did not work out better with the Wardens."

Anders gave her a sad smile. "As am I, Hawke. If you need help with anything else, I'll be here."

She smiled. "Thank you for the offer. As soon as I need the aid of another mage, I'll let you know. But for now, I have a lot to do, and so do you, I imagine." She nodded at the young couple that had just come in behind her, the very pregnant and pale young woman leaning heavily on the arm of the young man.

"It seems I do," Anders agreed, hurrying forward to take the woman's other arm and guiding her to a cot. "Goodbye, Hawke."

"Goodbye, Anders," she called over her shoulder as she left.

Brianna decided to head to Fenris's mansion next, and see if he and Mardin would agree to accompany her out to the Bone Pit. She wanted to bring Carver as well, but she thought it would be best to let him sleep for as long as possible, in the hopes it might improve his mood. Varric, as well, was not much of a morning person, so she would stop by the Hanged Man on her way out of Kirkwall to see if he would come also. Maker only knew what they would run into out at the mine, after all, and the five of them had worked well together yesterday.

It didn't take her long to reach the mansion, and she knocked lightly on the door. It didn't usually take much to alert Fenris that someone was there. When there was no immediate response, she frowned. Maybe he was still asleep? She turned the knob, knowing that the door wouldn't be locked. Fenris never locked it, either unconcerned about the possibility that someone would break in, or hoping that somebody, such as his former master to whom the mansion had once belonged, _would_ break in, allowing Fenris to freely attack them. As she suspected, the doorknob turned easily, and she swung the door open, stepping inside before closing it behind her.

"Fenris? Mardin?" she called lightly as she stopped in the large entry hall, a trifle worried. Surely the elf would have heard her by now – she'd never made it past the front door before without alerting him. Was he really sleeping so heavily? And where was Mardin? Had he not made it back to the mansion last night after walking her home?

She heard a noise off to her right, and turned to look in that direction, where a hallway led to a group of rooms, only to see a very naked Mardin emerging from the hallway, dagger in hand. She gaped at him, completely floored. His body was every bit as fantastic as she'd expected, was the first insane thought to flicker through her head. His arms, chest, and abdomen all rippled with taut muscle covered only lightly with red hair that matched his slightly darker stubble, the trail running down to the narrow vee of his hips, and her eyes skittered rather frantically past what she had to admit was a rather impressive cock, as well, taking in his powerful thighs and the lean grace of his long legs before snapping back up to his face.

"Why are you naked?!" she exclaimed, veering between alarmed, flustered, and aroused.

"Because I was sleeping?" he retorted, sounding a trifle grumpy. He lowered the dagger he'd previously been holding in a defensive position, but made no move to cover himself up, nor did he show any sign of being embarrassed.

Rooted to the spot, she kept her eyes firmly fixed on his face now as she blurted, "Do you always sleep naked?" She mentally kicked herself immediately after the question escaped her mouth. _Why would you ask him that?!_

He grinned suddenly, the annoyed look vanishing abruptly from his face. "Why are you so interested in my sleeping habits, Brianna?"

"I – you – I'm not – it just doesn't seem very safe, is all," she managed, pleased to have come up with at least a slightly decent reason for asking, considering how very fuzzy her brain was right now.

His grin spread a little wider, but he nodded, saying in a perfectly serious tone, "And you would be right, of course, if I had been sleeping outside. But since I had a roof over my head and my own room to sleep in, I'm sure I was quite safe, thank you. Did you need something?"

"I –" She _wanted_ a lot of things, she thought a little wildly. She wanted to know what those muscles of his felt like under her hands – or her mouth. But that wasn't the reason she was here, she reminded herself firmly, giving her head a little shake. "Can you please put some clothes on?" she asked, relieved that her voice was finally steady.

His eyes were sparkling with mischief as he answered gravely, "Of course. Wait here a minute; I'll go get ready."

He turned around to go back down the hallway, and she couldn't help the strangled squeak that escaped her as her eyes flickered down, seemingly of their own volition, to take in his firm, muscled buttocks that she had a sudden wild urge to squeeze. He glanced back over his shoulder, his expression sly. "Something wrong, Brianna?"

She shook her head, keeping her gaze firmly fixed on his again. "No, nothing." _Why, oh why did he have to sleep naked?!_ "Clothes, please?" she added, pointing down the hallway. Mercifully, he didn't say anything further, instead vanishing down the hallway.

By the time he re-emerged several minutes later, dressed in his sky-blue tunic and leggings of brown fur, bearing his sword, shield, and the few light bits of armor he wore, she'd managed to get herself under control again. "I'm sorry for waking you," she apologized when he approached her. "Usually Fenris hears me as soon as I knock, and when he didn't answer the door, I got worried. Where is he?"

Mardin shrugged. "He never came back last night, as far as I know. He must have stayed with Varric to sleep it off. And I guess my hearing isn't quite as sharp as his; I didn't hear your knock, only the door closing and the sound of you talking, but not what you were saying. Anyway, don't worry about it. I take it you have a job you need help with?"

Brianna nodded, relieved that he seemed content to dismiss what had just happened. "Yes, there's a mine just outside of Kirkwall called the Bone Pit. The workers have gone missing, and the owner has asked if I would look into it. And there are a few other things I would like to take care of today, as well. Would you mind helping me?"

"Of course not." He frowned, studying her for a minute. "Do you get enough sleep, Brianna?" he asked her gently.

She flushed, warmed by the concern in his gaze even as she felt slightly embarrassed. Did she look so tired and worn out that he felt the need to ask about it? "Yes, of course I do, thank you," she said formally. "I just like to get up early in the morning when I have a lot to do."

He nodded, still looking thoughtful. "Just make sure you don't push yourself too hard. It doesn't do anyone any favours, but especially not you."

"I won't," she promised, wondering even as she said it if he was speaking from personal experience. She headed towards the door, but he beat her there, holding it open for her to walk through before he followed her out. She nodded at him in thanks, trying to remember the last time anyone had held a door open for her. "At any rate, since we're already in Hightown, we might as well stop by the Chantry first before we get the others, so I can tell Sebastian Vael we found the last of those mercenaries yesterday."

"You know, I've been meaning to ask you," he began, walking at her side as they made their way through the marbled streets of Hightown towards the Chantry, "but what exactly is this expedition you're raising money for?"

"Oh, right, I suppose I haven't told you anything about it yet. It's an expedition down into the Deep Roads," she explained, "led by Varric's older brother, Bartrand. You see, the Deep Roads used to be a vast network of dwarven cities connected by roads, before the darkspawn came along and nearly annihilated the dwarves. Now Orzammar is the only dwarven city left standing, but there are still many ruins down there that might contain gold and weapons and other valuables. Bartrand found some maps that lead to what's supposed to be a previously unexplored area, so there's probably a lot of treasure to be had from there. If I can raise enough money, Varric says he can get Bartrand to agree to let me come along, and split some of the treasure, as well. And if we succeed, then I can get a better life for my mother and Carver with that money." She told him about how her mother was formerly of the nobility, and how, if she only had the money and influence, she might be able to get her mother her inheritance and former title back – and keep herself out of the hands of the Templars.

Mardin listened closely to her as they walked through the streets towards the Chantry, nodding every once in a while, clearly absorbing everything she said. "But there are still a lot of darkspawn down there, aren't there?" he asked when she'd finished.

She nodded, realizing he must have heard that from Varric. She'd decided to take it easy on him for the moment, and explain things to him that she thought he likely didn't know, instead of pestering him about his lack of knowledge. It was obvious that he'd already picked up a few things from Varric's stories, though. "There are, which is why I'll need people to come with me as well as help raise the money to go on the expedition. I'm not going to lie to you, it will be very dangerous," she warned him. "And I'm not just talking about losing your life; you could become tainted by the darkspawn's blood, too. I've seen it happen; it starts to corrupt you, and from what I've heard, can even turn you into one of them unless someone . . . kills you first." She could still remember the anguish in Aveline's eyes as she'd had to end her own husband's life before they fled Ferelden, to stop the spread of the corruption. It wasn't something she ever wanted to see again, but she didn't know what else she could do to get her family out of Lowtown. "But if you're willing to risk all of that," she went on softly, "I could really use your help down there."

He didn't even hesitate before he nodded, surprising her as he replied, "Absolutely, I'll help. Anything you need, I told you that already."

"Are you sure?" she asked him, a little floored that he'd agreed so easily. "You don't have to feel obligated to do everything I ask, you know, just because I helped you find a place to stay."

"And you helped me get news of my sister," he reminded her.

"Well, yes, but all we had to do was ask Anders," she protested. "It was such a small thing in comparison to how dangerous this expedition will be –"

"It wasn't a small thing to me, believe me," he told her quietly, interrupting her. "My sister is all I have left, and just because it turned out to be fairly easy to get news of her, does not mean that I am not extremely grateful for your help, and how readily you offered it. Besides the fact that I owe you for that, I just . . . want to help, that's all." He shrugged. "Anyway, I have little else to do; I gave up my post as a Captain to go looking for my sister."

"You could go back," she suggested quietly.

He shook his head. "No, I can't," he said shortly, his face now closed off, and Brianna decided not to press the matter, as curious as it made her, especially as they had arrived at the stairs leading up to the Chantry.

"The Chantry is up here," she told him, and started heading up the stairs as he followed her. "And, well, thank you. I really appreciate the fact that you're so willing to help me with all of this. Especially with the expedition. If it goes well, I will owe you more than I can ever repay."

"Well, I don't know about that. Didn't you say you were going to give me a cut of each job?" he asked her teasingly, his earlier seriousness suddenly gone, and she couldn't help but laugh.

"Yes, because some gold is certainly equal to you risking your life," she said wryly.

"The Order always seemed to think so," he replied, grinning and shrugging.

By this point, they had reached the top of the stairs, and the large double doors leading into the Chantry were ahead of them. Mardin pushed one door open, holding it for her as she slipped past him into the entryway beyond. This Chantry was far more impressive than the one at home in Lothering; it was a vast building of grey marble with high, vaulted ceilings, filled with large golden-red statues spaced along the walls at intervals, with an incredibly large one that extended all the way up to the ceiling at the very back. Red candles burned at the bases of the statues and in sconces along the wall, and the Chantry itself was multi-leveled, numerous balconies of white marble stacked one above the other, with stairways connecting them and red banners hanging over their railings.

It was an immense building, filled with many Chantry sisters and brothers, and Brianna really wasn't sure where to go to look for Sebastian, the Starkhaven prince who was also a Chantry brother. She had only been in the Chantry a couple of times, not being a very devout Andrastian. Fortunately, not far down the hallway, she recognized the gleaming white armor trimmed with gold, overlaying silver chain mail, that she'd seen him sporting only a couple of weeks ago when he'd fired an arrow at the Chantry board to keep his posting up there.

She approached him, Mardin still close at her side, and stopped a few feet in front of the man to address him. She hadn't actually talked to him yet; instead, she'd had Varric do some research on him before she'd decided to take on his posting. "You are Sebastian Vael, aren't you?" she asked, and when he nodded, looking surprised, she went on, "So, will anyone smite me if I tell you we killed the men who wronged your family?"

"My post to the Chanters' Board? Did Her Grace let that stay?" Sebastian asked incredulously, his voice tinged with a pleasant, if unfamiliar, accent. She admitted to herself that he was pleasant to look upon, as well, with slightly curly auburn hair and stunningly bright blue eyes in a handsomely featured face. She privately wondered at the fact that she felt no actual attraction to him, however. Or, at least, it was nothing compared to what she felt for Mardin. She shook that thought off, nodding in answer, but before she could say anything, Sebastian went on, "I thought for sure no one even read . . . But you say you've killed them? You have my eternal gratitude, serah! It is comforting to think my parents might now rest easily in their graves."

"You are most welcome," she replied formally, but unable to resist her curiosity, she couldn't help adding, "Why didn't your family's enemies hunt you down, as well?"

"That's why I took the offensive," the prince replied. "Thanks to you," he nodded gratefully at her, "those Flint Company assassins are no longer a danger. I'm the last of my line. Unless I survive, my family will have no justice."

What would it be like, she wondered, to be the last one of your family left alive? She couldn't even imagine it; it had been bad enough to lose her father and Bethany. She didn't even want to think how horrible it would be to lose _everyone_. "Do you have any idea who sent these mercenaries?" she asked Sebastian, for surely the Flint company hadn't just decided to do this all on their own.

Sebastian shook his head in reply, frowning. "My family has ruled Starkhaven for six generations. We have enemies, but none who would identify themselves openly. A distant cousin of mine is claiming rulership now, but he is . . . a bit simple. He can be no more than a pawn in this plot."

"But surely you must have a guess as to who was behind it?" she pressed. She simply couldn't believe that a royal family wouldn't have any enemies.

"My parents were always . . . prudent," Sebastian said carefully, ". . . in how they handled our nobles." Brianna heard Mardin mutter something under his breath that sounded like, "not prudent enough", and she elbowed him quickly as the prince continued, "They did not allow rivalries or resentments to flourish. The attack must have come from outside. Kirkwall is our largest trading partner. I came back here to find support for my claim and perhaps for a clue as to who is behind this foul deed."

"Well, if you find out who it was, I'd be happy to help you take your revenge on them," Mardin offered. Brianna glanced at him in surprise; he looked almost eager at the thought of revenge, even as his expression was a trifle dark.

"I – thank you, yes, I would appreciate it," the prince replied, looking a bit startled. "Forgive me, but what are your names?"

"Oh, yes, I apologize, we didn't introduce ourselves," Brianna said quickly, realizing how incorrectly she'd probably handled the whole situation. "My name is Brianna Hawke, and this is my companion, Mardin Trichlor." She pointed to Mardin who nodded at Sebastian in response. "Anyway, I'm . . . sorry that it was too late for the rest of your family, but I hope you sleep a bit easier now that the Flint company is gone."

Sebastian nodded soberly. "Yes, I hope I will. Thank you." He dug into a pouch hanging from his belt, producing four sovereigns which he handed over to Brianna. "Consider this an advance. When I have secured my lands again, you will be paid royally. Now if you'll excuse me, I must meet with the viscount and petition him for aid to a fellow city."

"Of course," Brianna replied, tucking the coins away in her own pouch. "Thank you."

Sebastian nodded and walked away, heading towards the doors, and after a moment, Brianna and Mardin followed, exiting the Chantry and heading down the stairs.

"We might as well go get Carver now, then head to the Hanged Man to see if Fenris and Varric will come," she told Mardin as they trotted down the Chantry stairs. He nodded, and she couldn't help saying after a moment, "You seemed awfully eager to help Sebastian get revenge for his family. Why is that?"

He glanced over at her, his expression shuttered, not replying right away. She held her breath, silently willing him to answer at least one of her questions honestly, and finally he said tightly, "Because I know what it's like to want revenge, that's why."

Remembering what he'd said earlier about his sister being all that he had left, she asked gently, "Was it your parents?"

He looked away, his jaw tight, and she thought this time he would simply refuse to answer, but he finally did. "It was my father. My mother died of an illness when I was young, and it was my father who raised my sister and I. He was killed six years ago by bandits while he was on patrol. They . . . tortured him before they killed him, and left his body in front of Order headquarters for us to find."

"Oh, Mardin," she said softly. "I'm sorry. My father died too, five years ago, but it was just an illness, not . . . I'm so sorry." She didn't know what else to say. She had been devastated to lose her father, as they had been very close, but she couldn't imagine how much worse it would have been to have one's father tortured and then killed. Without even thinking about it, she reached up and laid a hand gently on his shoulder, squeezing it. He looked down at her, giving her a half-hearted smile.

"Thank you. I – " he cleared his throat, looking away, and she let her hand drop as he went on, "Anyway, Ayla and I tracked them down later and we made them pay for it. Every last one of them." He looked back at her almost defiantly, his eyes cold with remembered rage. "So yes, I'll support anyone who wants to take revenge for their slaughtered family."

"I don't blame you," she replied honestly. She really didn't, after hearing what had happened; if her own father had been killed in such a fashion, she could easily see herself doing the same thing. She did, however, find the coldness in his expression more than a little disturbing, even though she knew it wasn't directed at her.

She wondered how she could ever have doubted that he was really a captain. When they had first met, he had seemed so easygoing and flippant that she had seriously thought he might be lying about being the captain of an order, as she couldn't see how someone like that could command a bunch of warriors. Having seen the way he reacted when he thought his sister had been killed, however, and again now, she no longer had any doubt. He had been suddenly and truly frightening in both moments, and Brianna wasn't the type to be easily intimidated. She could clearly see now the side of him that could keep an entire order of rowdy warriors in line, and it made her wonder just how much of that easygoing nature of his was real and just how much of it was affected to make people underestimate him like she initially had.

As if sensing the direction of her thoughts, he closed his eyes briefly, shaking his head, and when he opened them again, the cold rage was gone and he gave her an easy smile. "Let's talk about something else, shall we? Why don't you tell me more about the oh-so-ominously named Bone Pit and the other things you need to do today?"

She couldn't help but smile at the way he referred to the Bone Pit, even though she knew he was deflecting her away from the serious conversation about himself that he'd obviously been reluctant to have. At least he'd answered her honestly on this matter, for she couldn't doubt that his reactions had been genuine this time, so she let him distract her. As they made their way through Hightown and into Lowtown, she told him everything she knew about the Bone Pit, and also about Ninette's disappearance that she hoped to look into.

They stopped by Gamlen's house first and picked up Carver, who was finally awake and ready to go, and then went by the Hanged Man, where they found that Fenris had indeed stayed to sleep off a night of too much drinking in the set of rooms that Varric kept there. Both Fenris and Varric willingly agreed to accompany them out to the Bone Pit, however, making Brianna wonder again just what it was Varric did for a living. He never seemed to have anything to do beyond helping her, yet unlike Fenris and Mardin, he wasn't a recent arrival to Kirkwall with nothing better to do. She'd always assumed he helped his brother Bartrand with his merchant business somehow, yet when did he find the time to actually do anything besides help her? Well, it didn't really matter, she supposed, since she really needed his help.

It took them a few hours to travel to the area in the mountains where the Bone Pit was located, using the map that Hubert had sent Brianna along with the letter, so that it was nearly noon by the time they reached it. They stopped for a brief break to eat on the side of the path before they began to get closer. It struck Brianna as a gloomy little area of rocky ground, with scraggly bits of plants growing out of the rocks here and there, and it didn't help that the wind began to pick up as they got closer, sending the sun behind some dark clouds.

Fenris scowled. "This ground is cursed. Only wretched or ignorant souls would linger here."

Almost as soon as he'd said it, Brianna heard some faint, eerie noises in the distance, and gave an involuntary shiver. Mardin wrinkled his nose, looking as disturbed as Fenris was. "Smells like fire and death," he muttered, glancing warily ahead.

"Well, we have to find out what happened to the miners," Brianna said, trying to talk herself into it as she continued along the trail, and the others followed.

The trail wound around the side of a mountain, becoming steadily narrower and more rocky as they went, until it finally opened up onto a wide plateau of sandy ground in front of the mine entrances. She heard a shout as they came out into the clearing, and suddenly Mardin and Fenris were running ahead of her, followed shortly by Carver, to meet an oncoming wave of attackers.

Nearly a dozen rough-looking men and women attacked them, having obviously been looting the crates that lay abandoned everywhere outside of the mine entrances. Brianna sent a fireball blast at a clustered group of three of them that were coming up behind the several already facing Carver and the others, sending the three men flying. She finished them off with merciless lightning blasts, while Varric picked off a few more with lethally accurate bolts from Bianca.

Numerous though the looters were, they weren't terribly skilled at fighting, and it wasn't long before the five of them were victorious. Though she felt a bit bad about it, Brianna went about looting the bodies afterwards, and the others helped. She didn't have so much money that she could afford to be picky about where she got it, for most of what she got from her jobs went directly into her expedition savings. She still needed to somehow feed herself and her family, as well as give the others that helped her their fair share. She would do whatever she had to do, she reminded herself for what seemed like the hundredth time as she picked the pockets of one of the looters.

"There does not appear to be any miners out here," Fenris observed when they'd finished with the bodies of the looters.

"Maybe they all just ran away?" Carver suggested as they all looked around.

Mardin shook his head. "I don't think so. Too many scorch marks and burnt bodies. Look." He pointed at a badly charred body lying next to a mining cart.

"I think Red's right. They must have been attacked by something," Varric said. "Do you know, I heard stories that the Tevinters used to raise dragons out here?"

"Maker, please don't let it be dragons," Brianna muttered. "We'd better check inside the mines, and make sure there aren't any other miners around that might need help."

"Lead the way, Hawke," Varric said grandly, gesturing around them at the various mine entrances.

In the end, they only found one mine entrance that was still accessible; the others were all blocked by rubble, though Brianna didn't know if it was the miners that had done it, or something – or someone – else. They made their way into the mine through the one opening, and had only gone a short way in, coming across the first cavern, before they were attacked by several small dragons, no bigger than a Mabari hound. Small though they were, they were still dangerous with their teeth and claws, and just as they'd nearly defeated them, yet another dragon appeared, this one a bit larger than a horse and breathing fire. Still, between the five of them, they were able to finish it off without any serious injuries, Brianna counteracting its fire with ice while the others attacked it, Fenris dealing the finishing blow from its back.

"Well, Bree, it seems that it is dragons," Carver said wryly when the fight was done. "At least they're smaller than the one that witch turned into."

"Yes, lucky us," Brianna agreed dryly. "At least we know what happened to the miners; they wouldn't have been prepared to fight off dragons, small or not."

"There may be more miners hiding somewhere within these caves, though," Fenris pointed out.

Brianna nodded. "Yes, we'd better keep looking."

So they continued on through the rocky and dusty tunnels of the mine, where thankfully the miners had placed lanterns every few feet to light the way, most of which were still burning. There were also wooden sets of stairs in several of the caverns, connecting the ground level of the tunnels with higher rocky areas above. They ended up fighting a few more groups of the small dragons as they went through the mines, though fortunately none were bigger than the first ones they encountered.

Finally, they stumbled across one of the miners just as they were about to head through another entrance; he nearly ran right into Mardin, who had insisted on taking point after the first group of dragons, which Brianna had seen no reason to object to; his shield would be better protection than her robes. The miner was a red-haired man with a beard, dressed in simple woolen clothes, pale and wide-eyed as he stumbled to a halt in front of them.

"Are you all right?" Brianna asked him, stepping forward next to Mardin. The miner waved his hands frantically at her, making shushing noises and pointing behind him. Brianna nodded in understanding, realizing there must be more dragons behind him.

"Praise Andraste you came along," the miner whispered, glancing carefully over his shoulder. "Them dragons would have sniffed me out for certain."

"Hold on," Brianna said, trying to be as soothing as possible. "Can you tell us what happened here?"

"I'll tell you what I can, but be a friend and keep your voice down. There's another dragon close by," the miner hissed.

Brianna nodded, making sure to stay as quiet as possible as she asked, "Where did the dragons come from?"

"We was mining a new tunnel when the wall collapsed," the man explained, "and dragons came through! It was a bloody slaughter!" He shook his head, looking terrified, which Brianna couldn't blame him for. "Scared out of my wits, I ran like my ass was on fire – it probably was. Only I went the wrong way. Ended up trapped here."

"Did anyone else manage to escape?" she wanted to know. They hadn't seen anyone else so far.

The man nodded hastily. "Some of my fellows ran for the surface. I hope they made it."

Brianna could only hope that they had escaped before she and the others had arrived, since they hadn't met anyone on the way here. But at least she could be thankful they'd managed to save this one man, if no one else. "You should get out of here, and hurry," she told him, pointing back the way they'd come.

"Don't have to tell me twice. You should leave, too, but don't go that way." The miner pointed behind him, before holding his arms out wide. "There's this huge dragon!" Without further ado, he scooted past them and ran back the way they'd come.

"Seems we've another dragon to slay," Varric sighed, readying his crossbow. "Here I was hoping to get back to Kirkwall in time for happy hour . . ."

"Me too," Carver agreed mildly. "But of course it couldn't be that easy."

"Personally, I like a little challenge before I go celebrate with a drink," Mardin drawled. Brianna glanced up at him, noticing in surprise that his eyes were gleaming with excitement. Was he _really_ looking forward to fighting a big dragon?

"Well, I suppose we have to kill it," she said after a moment. "If we don't, it might make its way to Kirkwall eventually."

They all readied their weapons, nodding in agreement, and Mardin went first, Fenris and Carver behind him, Brianna and Varric bringing up the rear, as they made their way through the tunnel beyond the entrance where they'd met the miner. The tunnel eventually led them outside, onto a circular ledge high above a rocky clearing, surrounded by mountains. No sooner had they all gotten outside than a dragon came flying down from above. This one was much larger than the others they'd seen previously, though still not as large as Flemeth had been; it was about twice the size of an ox.

It spewed flame at the three men in front as it landed, and they dove out of the way. Brianna cast a cone of ice in front of her as the flame got closer, and the two elements fizzled out as they met. Brianna followed up with yet another blast of ice, catching the dragon in its side, and it roared, charging forward. It stopped short, however, roaring again as Mardin and Carver swung their swords at it from either side, while Fenris leapt onto its back, landing with his greatsword point down. In the next instant, however, the dragon had succeeded in bucking Fenris off its back, while it swiped Carver aside with its tail and moved to bite Mardin on the other side.

Varric began firing bolts at the dragon, his main focus seeming to be the dragon's eyes and wings, while Brianna hit it with arcane bolts between blasts of ice, trying to preserve her magical energy as much as possible. The other three continued attacking it, trying to stay out of reach of its claws, teeth, fire and tail as they circled it and Fenris tried to get on its back once more. Though the fight was much harder than the ones previously, the dragon seemed to be growing progressively weaker as more sword wounds and crossbow bolts appeared on its side.

Then the lashing tail hit Carver hard, and he went down with a sharp cry. Brianna raced over to his side, sudden panic pounding through as her mind flashed back to the moment Bethany had been killed by the ogre. She would not fail Carver as she had failed her baby sister, was her only thought as she dropped to her knees next to him, a basic healing spell at the ready as she checked him over.

"Bree, I'm fine," Carver got out through gritted teeth, and though he was clutching at his side, Brianna didn't see any open wounds or signs of severe injury. At that moment, though, she heard a cry of "Hawke!" followed by "Brianna!" behind her.

She whirled around in time to see the dragon's head coming straight at her, snarling with teeth out and ready, and she raised her staff, hoping she'd be fast enough with the one shielding spell she knew to stop it. Before she got out the words, however, Mardin was there in front of her, deflecting the dragon's mouth aside with a bash of his shield, and trying to swing his sword into its head right after. He just barely missed the head, and before he could recover, the dragon's front claws raked into his unprotected back, blood flying as it rent right through the light chainmail.

"Mardin!" Brianna screeched in horror as he went down hard on his knees, just stopping himself from landing face-first by planting his sword in the ground. The dragon let out a shriek at the same moment, as Fenris had taken advantage of its distraction to stab his greatsword into its side.

Carver scrambled up from behind her, and while the dragon whirled to get at Fenris, he stabbed into its chest on the other side while Varric peppered that same side with bolts. This distraction proved sufficient enough that the dragon tried to turn back towards them, and Fenris stabbed right into the base of its neck, slicing down hard and opening up a fountain of blood. With a final gurgling shriek, the dragon collapsed to the ground, Fenris and Carver moving to make sure it wouldn't get up again.

"Oh, Maker, Mardin!" Brianna scurried closer to him, flinching at the sight of the three deep claw marks across his back, bleeding profusely between the slashed bits of his chainmail and tunic. He was leaning heavily on his sword, gasping for breath, but he turned a bit to look at her and smiled faintly. "It's not that bad of a wound," he managed.

"Yes it is!" Brianna snapped as she started casting the healing spell she'd been going to use on Carver on his back instead. The blue glow spread from her hands into the deep gouges, but they were closing up very slowly, and she frowned, concern rushing through her. Anders had been teaching her some healing magic when they had time, but she was still really more of a combat mage than a proficient healer, and she suddenly wished that Anders was here to fix the wound. Her worry for Mardin and her concern that her magic wasn't enough only fuelled her anger as she yelled at him, "Look at all this blood! What did you think you were doing?!"

"Helping you?" he offered mildly, though she could hear the pain in his voice that he was trying to mask. "I did avoid the teeth, you'll notice."

"Well you didn't avoid the claws!" Brianna snarled at him. "And don't you dare move!" she added angrily when he shifted as if to turn and look at her.

"Yes, my lady," he said meekly, though she could hear a current of amusement in his voice now, and she blew out an exasperated breath, trying not to laugh herself.

"Take it easy on poor Red, Hawke," Varric said as he came up next to her. "He did just get clawed by a dragon for your sake, you know."

"It was his own stupid fault," Brianna grumbled, ignoring Mardin's soft chuckle as she concentrated hard on the spell, frowning down at the wounds. Though the bleeding seemed to have largely stopped, the wounds were only marginally smaller, and she didn't have a lot of magic left, or any lyrium potions. "I'm not sure I can fix this, Varric," she added quietly. "I'm not Anders. Does anyone have any of his healing potions left?"

"Sorry, Hawke," Varric answered regretfully. "I used my last one up on that last batch of dragons."

Carver and Fenris had rejoined them, having made absolutely certain the dragon wasn't getting back up and having cleaned off their swords as well, and both shook their heads. "I did see a crate of healing potions back at the entrance to the mines," Fenris offered. "I left them there, as there were too many of them to carry at the time."

"Can you go get them?" Brianna begged him. "Please?"

"I'll be fine –" Mardin began, but Brianna cut him off. "No, you won't," she snapped. "Please, Fenris?"

The elf nodded before heading towards the entrance, and Varric went to follow. "Come on, Junior, let's go get as many as we can carry," he called over his shoulder.

Carver nodded, looking down at Mardin first. "Thanks for protecting my sister," he said gruffly. Brianna smiled slightly, her heart warming at her little brother's words. Every once in a while, Carver managed to surprise her.

"You're welcome," Mardin replied seriously, before Carver hurried after the other two. "You can stop, you know," he said after a moment, when the others had disappeared down the tunnel. "I know you're running out of magical energy, and I'm not bleeding to death. I can wait until they get back."

Brianna frowned, but he was right; she was feeling close to drained, and the spell wasn't really doing much anymore. Besides, the bleeding had stopped for the most part, with only the occasional trickle here and there, and it shouldn't take long for the others to get back with the potions. She cut off the spell, lowering her hands and sitting down heavily behind him. "How did you know I was running low?" she asked softly.

He glanced over his shoulder, and when she didn't immediately yell at him, he turned himself very carefully around before sitting down cross-legged next to her. He looked very pale still, she noted with worry as he answered, "I could feel it. The wounds were closing up at first, but that feeling kept slowing down, and I know you were trying as hard as you could. It meant you had to be running low."

She sighed. "I'm sorry I'm not a better healer. Anders could have fixed that right away, I'm sure."

He shook his head. "Don't worry about it. As you so kindly pointed out," he grinned at her, eyes sparkling with mirth, "it was my own fault. I should have been watching out for a second attack, instead of trying to get in an attack of my own."

"And I'm sorry for yelling at you," she added with a wince. "I tend to get angry when I'm worried." He waved this off as though it was a minor concern, and she went on softly, "Why did you do it, though? Get between me and the dragon?"

He studied her thoughtfully, seemingly contemplating his answer, before he said at last, "It wasn't anything personal. I would have done that for anyone. That wasn't my enemy, at least," he amended.

"But why?" she pressed, trying to understand his motivations, even as she admired the fact that he hadn't used it as an opportunity to try and charm her - which, she admitted to herself, just might have worked.

He shrugged. "Because protecting people is one of the Order's duties. I'd be a poor Captain if I wasn't the first one willing to lay my life on the line." He said the last with the air of someone reciting something he'd heard many times before, a faint smile on his face.

"Who taught you that?" she asked him quietly.

He gave her a slightly startled look before he smiled again, a much brighter and more genuine smile that gave her a warm feeling inside. "My father. He was the Captain before I was, for many years. I think he became Captain before I was even born."

"He must have been a very good Captain," she prompted gently, hoping to get him to open up a bit more, though she sincerely believed her statement, as well.

Mardin nodded, a far-away look in his eyes. "He was. I tried my best to follow in his footsteps, after he was killed. I don't know if I really succeeded, but . . . I tried."

"I know what you mean," Brianna agreed, laying a hand over his where it rested on his knee and squeezing it gently, feeling that they both needed the comfort. He flipped his hand over, squeezing hers in turn as she went on, "After my father died, my mother was devastated. She kind of . . . fell apart. I did everything I could to look after her, and Bethany and Carver - to make sure that they had everything they needed. I really tried to do it the way he would have . . . but I failed to protect Bethany. I _won't_ fail to protect Carver."

He squeezed her hand a little tighter, meeting her eyes seriously. "Varric told me what happened to her. That wasn't your fault."

"It was," she insisted, feeling tears gathering in her eyes that she tried to keep back. "It was my job to protect her, and Carver. It's always been my job, ever since they were born, and I didn't – I couldn't – "

"Hey." He captured her other hand in his, squeezing them both tightly, bringing her attention back to him. "I understand, okay? It's always been my job to look after my sister, too, ever since we were little. Keeping her safe, that was on me, and I lost her. But there comes a point when . . . they're not little kids anymore, and they go off and do things on their own, and we can't stop them. We just have to . . . accept that they made those decisions for themselves."

Nobody had ever understood the pressure she was under before, to look after the twins, but she could see that Mardin did, one older sibling to another, and she felt her heart ease a little with his words, but not completely. "I was right there, though –"

"Right there, and too far away," he cut her off gently. "You couldn't have done it any differently, trust me. There's no point in torturing yourself with what you could have or should have done. I did it for years with my father, telling myself I should have gone on patrol with him, or stopped him from going on patrol. It never does any good, and there's no way to go back. You just have to . . . let it go."

She nodded, letting out a deep breath as two tears escaped, trickling down her cheeks before she managed to hold them back. He was right; there was no way to go back, and no point in torturing herself anymore. Bethany had decided for herself to protect Mother, and she needed to accept that. He reached up with one hand, gently wiping away her tears, and she felt herself flush. "Thank you, Mardin, really. I . . . needed to hear that."

He smiled back at her, those ice-blue eyes suddenly a soft and deeper blue, in a way that she'd never quite seen before, but it still sped her pulse up. "You are most welcome, my lady."

She heard Varric's voice just then, and the sound of approaching footsteps, and she quickly pulled her other hand away from Mardin, standing up as she flushed with embarrassment, not wanting Carver or the others to see her moment of weakness. The three of them came hurrying through the gap in the cave wall a moment later, arms laden with potions.

"There were even some lyrium potions in there, Hawke!" Varric exclaimed triumphantly as they came to a stop a few feet away. "We should be able to get you _and_ Red going again with all of these!"

"That's good news, Varric," she said, smiling as they all set the potions down on the ground.

It took four of the healing potions before Brianna was happy with the state of Mardin's back, and she still added a little bit of the basic healing magic to it after she'd taken three of the lyrium potions. She ran her fingers over the skin afterwards, checking to make sure it was unbroken once more, and finally satisfied, declared that they should get back to Kirkwall and report to Hubert. They divided up the remaining potions between their pouches, and made their way back to Kirkwall.

By the time they reached the city, it was nearly supper-time, the sun dipping low towards the horizon, but she still led the others to the Hightown marketplace first to report the results to Hubert. He was still at his booth when they arrived, a dark-skinned man with dark brown hair and a beard, wearing what was in Brianna's opinion a very gaudy tunic of patterned red and gold, though the velvet it was made of was clearly fine material. "I solved your problem," she told him simply when they stopped in front of him.

"So, what happened? One of the miners told me you rescued him from dragons," Hubert scoffed. "I cuffed him for lying."

Brianna narrowed her eyes. She really didn't like this man, but she needed the money he owed her, so she did her best to hold her anger in as she replied shortly, "Well, he wasn't. Go there and see the corpses for yourself. The largest dragon injured my companions." And she wasn't likely to forget that anytime soon; either her moment of terrified panic over Carver, or the blood spraying from Mardin's back, even if it was gone now.

Hubert's eyes widened with clear shock as he protested, "But . . . I thought they're extinct!" When she glared fiercely at him, he waved his hands at her, shaking his head. "Eh, I believe you. You made them extinct again? If it is safe, the miners can return to work."

"I don't know if I'd call that place safe," Mardin said skeptically.

Remembering Anders' words about Mardin's instincts, Brianna nodded in agreement. "The Bone Pit is hazardous at best. And if the dragons return, well . . ." she shrugged. She hoped she didn't need to explain to Hubert what a disaster that would be.

"I appreciate your concern for my worker's welfare," Hubert replied, smiling and nodding, and very obviously not listening as he continued, "I could use someone like you to ensure their continued safety. Since you did so much more than I was expecting, how about we work together?"

"Work together?" Carver repeated incredulously, glancing from Hubert back to Brianna. "With _him_?"

"I am offering a fifty-fifty share in the mine," Hubert said quickly before Brianna could answer. "You will make us both rich if you can keep your countrymen safe."

Brianna chewed on her lip thoughtfully. There wasn't much work available for Fereldan refugees in Kirkwall, and it was obvious that Hubert was going to keep sending workers there regardless of what she said. Having made her decision, she answered at last, "Seems like the miners could use protection . . . and an advocate. I'll work with you, for their sake."

Hubert beamed and nodded, clearly ignoring the intent of her message as he clapped his hands together. "So to our first order of business: we replace the lost workers. I will hire new hands. Plenty of desperate Fereldans out there, but it will take some time." He pointed at Brianna. "I need you to convince the surviving miners to return. They are holed up in Lowtown. Tell them the Bone Pit is safe again."

She sighed. "I'll see what I can do." Hubert took out three sovereigns, handing them over to her, and she tucked them in her pouch as well before walking away, the others following.

Since they were heading back to Lowtown anyway, Brianna tracked down the miners first; they weren't hard to find, drinking and carousing noisily on the street not far from the Hanged Man. After a few moments of conversation with Jansen, the red-haired miner they'd rescued, and his very drunk friends, she managed to convince them to return to work for twice what they were getting paid before. Let Hubert deal with that, she thought smugly. If he was going to send them back to a potential death-trap, the least he could do was pay them decently.

That done, she turned to the others. "How about I buy us all supper and a drink or two at the Hanged Man? We have to wait until it's fully night to check out that foundry, anyway."

"I never say no to free food and drink, Hawke!" Varric declared. "Lead the way!"

The others nodded their agreement, and they all headed over to the Hanged Man. As they went, Mardin whispered quietly to her, "And after the foundry, you'll go and get some proper rest, right?"

She stared at him for a moment in surprise before nodding. She supposed he did have a point; she had been putting in some long days lately, trying to finish all of these jobs. "Right," she agreed.

"Good," he smiled down at her, before holding open the door to the Hanged Man for her. As she went in, Brianna tried to remember when the last time was that anyone had tried to look after her, even her own mother, and came up blank. Until now, no one had really expressed any concern about her well-being since her father had died five years ago, and she found herself more touched than she wanted to admit at Mardin's concern, however minor it might be. She'd been right from the very beginning; there was definitely far more to Mardin than met the eye, and even more than she'd initially suspected. That made her wonder if her heart might not be in just as much trouble as the rest of her, and decided after rolling her eyes at him when he pulled a chair out for her with a flourish and a wink, that maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing, after all.


	5. What Manner of Demon Are You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On their way to the Foundry to look into missing women, they run across a Chantry sister who offers them a job. After they find themselves unable to catch whoever is murdering the women, they go to the Sister and Brianna takes the job, in spite of Mardin's warnings otherwise, leading to a dangerous encounter with the Qunari. Mardin, meanwhile, is beginning to realize that Brianna sees right through him, and decides to go to Anders to see how much the mage knows about his sister, and whether he can reveal the truth about himself to Brianna.

Chapter Five: What Manner of Demon Are You?

Mardin watched Brianna and the others while they ate, only half paying attention to the conversations going on around him. He couldn't help but think as he took in the dark circles under her eyes, that she did look exhausted. He knew she was pushing herself too hard, trying to get everything in line for this expedition of hers, so that she could give her family a better life.

He couldn't fault her for that; it was a worthy goal, certainly, even if it and the expedition itself left him a bit confused about just what his destiny here was supposed to be. He was certain he was on the right path; meeting Flemeth, who seemed to be this world's version of a Messenger, with her insight into people's minds and futures, had only confirmed that. In her own cryptic way, she'd certainly alluded to Brianna having a big destiny, and she had not said anything about him being on the wrong path. Which could only mean he was right, and Brianna and the others were part of what he was supposed to do here. He just couldn't see right now what the ultimate goal was supposed to be, what he was supposed to prevent or stop or help with. But perhaps this expedition for fame and fortune would merely be the catalyst for something larger.

Certainly, it seemed like most of their jobs so far, no matter how small and uncomplicated they appeared at first glance, turned into something much bigger. A trip to deliver a necklace had turned into a meeting with a Messenger, while a trip to check on miners had turned into a battle with dragons. Everything around Brianna was more complicated than it appeared at first glance, he'd learned, and so he could only assume the expedition would be the same way. He would, he decided, simply have to stick closely to her side and eventually he'd see what was the right path to take, what Cranin and the Goddess wanted him to do here.

He could start by making sure Brianna didn't run herself into the ground leading everyone, as it seemed he was the only one to notice so far that she was pushing herself from dawn until well after dusk to get everything accomplished. Or, at least, he appeared to have been the only one to say it to her face, judging by the way she'd looked at him. She needed a good second to back her up and look after her, like he'd always had. He could still remember when he'd first taken over the Order, and had been working himself to the bone trying to fill in for his father. Ayla had found him asleep at his desk in the middle of the day once, he'd been so exhausted, and she'd been furious, dragging him home to sleep in spite of his protests. From then, she'd watched him like a hawk, making sure that he slept and ate properly while running the Order, and she'd taken over as many aspects as she could to make his burden lighter. Lorcan must have known the full extent of how Ayla had taken care of him, for he'd done the same after she'd disappeared, especially in those first few days when Mardin had tried to search every hour of the day for her. It had been Lorcan who had told him in no uncertain terms that he was being an idiot and needed to sleep if he wanted to stay alive long enough to find her. He only hoped that Lorcan found himself an equally good lieutenant, now that he was the captain. And, Mardin decided, he would be the one to back Brianna up and make sure she didn't get herself killed working too hard or being too reckless. After all, who knew better than him all the signs to watch out for?

"Well," Brianna declared at that moment, setting down her mug and pushing aside the empty bowl that had contained the mysteriously lumpy stew they'd all eaten for supper, "it should be late enough now for us to check out the Foundry. Let's go."

Everyone nodded in agreement, setting aside their own mugs and bowls before getting up and following Brianna. She paid for their meals and drinks on the way out the door, and Mardin followed her and the others out into the darkness of the night. It was a slightly cool, overcast night, the sky half-covered in clouds, with stars shining bright in the spaces between, and the half-full moon occasionally slipping past a cloud to spill through the shadowed corners of Lowtown. Mardin breathed deep of the slightly fresher air; the Hanged Man was an enjoyable enough place for a drink, but he couldn't stand its smell of unwashed bodies, vomit, and stale drink for very long. The breeze brought him a whiff of Brianna's scent, where she walked in front of him, and he smiled; somehow, even after a full day of fighting, she still managed to smell deliciously tempting. One day soon, he hoped he'd get a chance to enjoy her scent more closely, once she got over whatever was holding her back.

They rounded a corner just then, and Brianna held up a hand to halt them. Mardin saw almost instantly why; several feet ahead, a woman in black and red robes was being confronted by an armed man whose outfit and demeanor practically screamed 'bandit' – at least to Mardin it did. "Here, miss," the man said, "Word is, you're looking for help and paying well."

The woman turned her attention to him, nodding haughtily and saying in a well-cultured tone, "I need someone native to the dark places beneath Lowtown. If you claim as much, yes, I will pay."

The man's grin spread wide, and he nodded enthusiastically. "I am, I am. Let's just step into this alley and me and my fellows can have a look at the money on offer."

Mardin could only stare in astonishment as the woman willingly followed the man into the dark and shadowed alley behind her. Was she insane? He didn't even need his shifter's instincts to tell him that the man intended to harm her.

"She has chosen poorly," Fenris said darkly, echoing Mardin's thoughts.

"You would think she would have been smart enough to see that for herself," Mardin replied, shaking his head incredulously.

"Can you save someone so intent on being foolish?" Brianna asked, her tone equally astonished, but after a brief moment, she sighed. "I guess we'd better help her."

She headed forward, into the dark, shadowed alley, and Mardin and the others followed quickly after her. The bearded man, who was just about to descend on the woman along with a half-dozen thugs coming out of the shadows behind him, spotted them almost immediately. "I don't like interruptions, not when this mark is so promising! Get them!" he yelled to his companions, waving them forward.

The fight was short and easy; the seven thugs were simply no match for the five of them, and they came out of the fight with barely a scratch on them. Mardin grinned down at the body below him as he pulled his sword out, cleaning it. It seemed Kirkwall had no shortage of bandits who wanted to leap headfirst into a bloody death, and he was perfectly happy to oblige them.

As he sheathed his sword, the woman in the robes approached them, Brianna stepping forward a few paces to meet her. Mardin's brow furrowed as he studied the blonde woman; she had a stern, hard-faced demeanor, and he got an uncomfortable twinge in his gut just looking at her. Perhaps she wasn't as idiotically innocent as she'd first appeared. She nodded briefly to Brianna. "Well, thank you for your timely intervention. I am . . . out of my element."

Brianna frowned. "Surely you didn't realize that just now."

"I had to come here to get the type of person I need," the woman answered smoothly. "Someone of bloody skill, but also integrity. Perhaps the kind who might leap to someone's defense." She tilted her head, looking at Brianna shrewdly, and it was Mardin's turn to frown, as he had the sudden feeling they'd been played. "I have a charge who needs passage from the city," the woman continued. "If you are willing and capable, meet me at my safehouse nearby." She took a folded piece of parchment out of a pocket of her robes, handing it to Brianna.

Brianna took the piece of paper from her, reluctantly, and looked at it briefly before looking back up at the woman. "I just saved you in an alley, and suddenly we're in business?"

"You're in Lowtown," the woman responded derisively. "What grand scheme could I be interrupting? Varnell?" she called at the end.

There was the sudden clanking of armor as a man with short brown hair came around the corner, clad in silver plate with an odd purple skirting, bearing a sword and shield. Mardin scowled; the smell in this alley had been so stagnant, so overwhelmed with the smells of the bandits and the garbage piled in the corners that he hadn't noticed this man's scent before now. He didn't like knowing he'd missed something, even if it was just one man, for this man was clearly more skilled than the bandits had been.

"A bloody templar," Carver growled under his breath from Mardin's left. "Just what we need."

Mardin glanced quickly over at him, surprised. Was this man a Templar, then? He'd gleaned enough from Varric's stories and Brianna's explanation of what she needed the expedition for to learn that Templars were responsible for keeping mages in line in this world, and capturing so-called rogue mages who were outside of the Circles meant to keep them imprisoned. Capturing mages like Brianna, something he could obviously not allow if he was to fulfill his destiny, which he knew was entangled with hers. His hand went to his sword hilt, wondering if this would turn into a fight, too, for Brianna had used magic against the bandits just now.

The Templar, however, made no move towards Brianna, merely came to stand next to the woman in the robes, who turned to Brianna again. "I hope you will come. This matter only grows more urgent with time." Without waiting for an answer, the woman walked out of the alley, the Templar following behind her.

Brianna turned to watch them go, a thoughtful look on her face as she tucked the piece of parchment into her pouch.

"Don't tell me we're going to help a Chantry sister and a Templar," Carver said, going up to her. "Do you know how dangerous that would be?"

"They didn't seem to care that I was a mage," Brianna answered, "only that we have skill. And if she's offering a lot of money . . . well, we need it."

"I think Carver's right," Mardin offered, noting that Carver shot him a surprised and pleased look at his agreement. "I don't think we can trust her."

Brianna turned to him, her eyebrows raised. "What makes you say that?"

Damn. He kept getting the feeling that she could see right through him, and now was no exception as he replied carefully, "It just . . . seemed like that was a set-up, that's all."

"Red's probably right," Varric agreed, "but if she's offering a lot of money, I don't think it would hurt to find out what she wants."

Brianna nodded. "Well, let's go to the Foundry first. Then we'll see what she has to say."

Mardin sighed, shrugging. If she wanted to go look, it wasn't his place to stop her; he'd just have to do what he could to keep them all safe. He followed Brianna and the others as they continued on in search of the Foundry.

As it turned out, the alley they were in eventually led to a small courtyard where there was a side door to the Foundry, a small but thick rusty metal door up a flight of stone steps. No sooner had they entered through the door, which led to an open area with loud machines all around the edges, than they caught a glimpse of a man in robes on a balcony that wound its way around the room.

"Wait!" Brianna shouted, but the man fled almost as soon as they'd spotted him, and when they moved to chase after them, strange creatures erupted from the ground around them.

In the center, Mardin noticed as he drew his sword, was a creature who looked like a naked woman, if said woman was purple-skinned with horns. The other creatures were nothing more than barely formed black shadows. Were these creatures demons? he wondered.

"Blood magic," Fenris snarled as he swung his sword at the purple creature, who laughed merrily as it dodged.

"Why does everything we do have to involve magic?" Carver added, trying to swing at one of the shadows, his sword passing right through.

Remembering how Brianna had said that mages could call forth demons or become possessed by them, Mardin decided that these creatures must indeed be demons, then, as he leapt in to help wherever he could. His sword was useless against the shadows, until Brianna began to freeze them, allowing him and Carver to bust them apart while Fenris and Varric kept the purple creature busy. In the end, when Brianna froze the creature with a paralysis spell, Fenris was able to cut the thing in two, causing it to shriek and disappear in a cloud of smoke, just as Mardin and Carver shattered the last of the frozen shadows.

"That mage might be the man who's responsible for all the disappearances," Brianna cried as she scrambled for the stairs leading up to the balcony the robed man had been on. "He might still be here somewhere!"

They all began to split up and look around, as there were several rooms up the stairs from where they'd entered. The Foundry itself was full of the noise of rumbling machinery, the heat and roaring of fires keeping the machines going, and the overwhelming smells of smoke, rust, dirt, and metal everywhere. Mardin was trying to track the man by smell, but could only catch the faintest whiff of flowers – lilies maybe? and an unpleasant herbal smell mixed with something he could only describe as putrid, here and there. It was too difficult to nail the smell down amidst all the other scents of machinery and smoke and dust in the Foundry, and he growled with impatience.

Finally, at the entrance to one of the rooms, he smelled something else; blood, and the unmistakable scent of death. It was strong, and it didn't take him long to find the source; a cloth sack, soaking through with blood, laid in a corner. He could just barely make out the smell of the lilies and unpleasant herbs on the sack amidst the scent of blood, and decided it had to belong to the man he'd failed to track. It would seem they were not going to find any of those women alive, he thought, as he called out, "Brianna, I found something!"

She hurried over to him a moment later, followed by the others, and he pointed out the sack. She flinched briefly at the sight, but gamely picked it up and pulled the drawstring open, spilling out the contents. A severed hand spilled out, along with a few other severed limbs leaking blood, and several bones besides.

"That's a lot of bones," Carver said quietly as they all stared at the pile, unsure of what to say.

A ring was glinting on one of the fingers of the severed hand, and Brianna carefully pulled it off, studying it. "Emeric will want to know about this," she said at last, "and I should bring the ring to Ghyslain. It might belong to Ninette. Nobody found that mage anywhere?"

Everyone shook their heads. "I have searched every room," Fenris told her. "There is no sign of him; he must have fled while we fought the demon and the shades."

Mardin piled the contents back into the sack, tying it as he straightened up. "I tried to track him, but the sm – " he cut himself off abruptly as he realized what he'd been about to say. _You're not among shifters anymore, remember? Normal people can't track by scent!_ "Uh, that is, there's too much dust and dirt on the ground. Makes it too hard to pick out footprints." He kicked at the ground, a cloud of dust rising from the inches of hard-packed dirt on top of wood emphasizing his point.

He thought he'd covered himself fairly nicely, but when he met Brianna's eyes, he could see curiosity lurking there, and wondered again if she saw right through every excuse and lie he came up with to hide his true self. Should he just tell her? Could he trust her with the truth of who and what he was? Maybe he should talk to Anders, he thought, and find out just how much the former Warden knew about his sister. If he knew and believed everything about her, and hadn't told anyone, that would be a good sign that Mardin might be able to trust others of this world, too. Perhaps tomorrow night, if they had time, he'd take the mage for the promised drink and find out, he decided.

Brianna stared at him for a moment, as if deciding whether to call him out on his slip, but she finally nodded. "Right. Well, if he's nowhere to be found, there's nothing else we can do right now, unfortunately. This is at least proof that these women didn't just run away; someone is luring them to their deaths. We'll have to see if we can find out just who that mage is before he kills more women."

Mardin wanted to tell her that if he got close enough to pick up the man's scent again, he'd know who it was, but he couldn't; that would mean explaining just how he could smell the man so well in the first place, so he simply nodded his agreement along with everyone else as she continued, "We might as well leave now, and go see what that Chantry sister wanted. She seemed like she was in a hurry," Brianna added when Mardin raised his eyebrows at her. She'd promised to get some rest after the Foundry, but he could see that he was going to have to work harder at convincing her that not everything had to be done at once.

She cast him an innocent, pleading look as if to say that she promised this was the last thing tonight, and he sighed, eventually nodding. If this was a trap, like he suspected it might be, they'd simply have to get through it. She beamed at him before she led them all out of the foundry, Mardin eventually electing to leave the sack just outside of the door so that they could come back and get it later for the required proof.

Brianna led them through the streets of Lowtown to the safehouse the woman had mentioned, using the bit of parchment the woman had handed over earlier. It was nothing but a small hovel, built into the wall of the old city slums, not far from where Mardin had left her the other night when he'd walked her home. The first thing he noticed when they walked in was the Templar from earlier crouched in a battle stance, sword drawn and threat clear as they entered the small stone room. Mardin stepped in between the Templar and Brianna, reaching for his own sword, a snarl building up in him at the implied threat to her and the others.

"Nice to see you, too," Brianna said to the Templar dryly, even as she put a gentle hand on Mardin's shoulder. He looked over his shoulder at her, and she shook her head slightly at him. He frowned, but he dropped his hand away from his sword, even as the Chantry sister from before gestured to the Templar, who relaxed his stance and sheathed his sword as well. Even so, Mardin kept himself between the Templar and Brianna as she turned to the sister; he didn't trust anything that was going on in this room, not with the way the hairs at the back of his neck were lifting. He wondered, briefly, why this protective urge he felt for Brianna was so much stronger than normal; he was used to wanting to protect others, but not this much. He shook the thought off; it was simply that he was normally with other front-line fighters, and she was a mage not used to close combat. That was all it was; that was all it could be.

"I thank you for coming," the sister said to Brianna when she turned back to her. "This matter is delicate, and I need someone of . . . limited notoriety who will not link this to me. It is an escort, but I think you will agree, the nature of the party makes this . . . unique."

Brianna heaved a sigh. "Look, it's getting really late. Can you just get to the point and tell us who is going where?"

The sister nodded briefly. "My name is Sister Petrice. I have assumed a burden of charity. This is my charge."

She gestured to a large Qunari who came in from a small, cramped room off to the side. Mardin briefly turned his attention from the Templar named Varnell to study this new addition; he was different from any of the other Qunari that he'd seen so far, either the Tal-Vashoth or the ones with the Arishok. This one wore a high, heavy armoured collar fastened to him by numerous golden chains and straps, which were linked to the waist of the heavy leather skirt around the lower part of his body. The most disturbing part of all was that his mouth appeared to be sewn shut, below the golden mask that covered the rest of his face.

"A saarebas?" Fenris said in obvious disbelief. "Here?"

Mardin had only the briefest moment to wonder what a saarebas was before Sister Petrice went on, "Would even a Templar bind a mage like this? He is a survivor of infighting with their Tal-Vashoth outcasts. I call him 'Ketojan', a bridge between worlds. The viscount, and others, feel that peace begins with appeasement. This mage would likely be returned to his brutal kin. He can serve a better purpose. I want him free. He must be guided from the city without alerting his people, or being seen in my care."

This . . . this was a Qunari mage, then? Mardin wondered, feeling sick to his stomach. Rather than imprisoning them in circles, the Qunari sewed the mouths of their mages shut, and bound them in chains? Even with the threat of possession by demons that the mages in this world carried, that the mages in his world did not, he still couldn't see the justification for doing this kind of thing. Were abominations truly so frightening?

Brianna looked, briefly, as horrified as he felt, before she schooled her face into a more impassive look as she turned back to Sister Petrice. "You don't just stumble on something . . . someone like this."

The sister shrugged. "For all their blasphemous certainty, the Qunari do have deserters. Those who seek freedom are hunted mercilessly."

"Tal-Vashoth," Brianna said with a nod. "They seem to accept the role."

"Even their rebels conform. Ser Varnell observed one of their bloody exchanges," the sister explained, gesturing to the Templar. "This poor mage was the only survivor."

Brianna frowned, looking thoughtful as she studied the Qunari again, who had not moved since entering the room, nor shown any sign that he was aware of what was going on around him. "And you think this mage was one of the Tal-Vashoth, one of the hunted?" she asked.

"I am certain no thinking creature would willingly submit to this," Petrice replied firmly. "If he was not running before, he has seized the opportunity now."

"Will he help?" Brianna said at last. "If I trust him at all . . ." she glanced over at Mardin as she said this, startling him. What did she know? Had she somehow figured out his ability to sense danger? It was difficult for him to evaluate the Qunari's danger as an individual right now, with Petrice and Varnell still in the room; all he knew was that the whole thing reeked of danger overall. He gave her a brief shrug in response, and she turned her attention back to the sister.

"I don't know his capabilities, or if he can function at all in that collar," Petrice answered. "But I think he knows we are his only way out."

"You . . . _think_?" Brianna repeated incredulously. "You mean you don't know?"

"He has followed every direction, and made no aggressive moves even when taunted. Were I in his place, I could have fled," the sister replied simply. "Qunari or not, I can only assume he wants to be led to freedom."

"And if you're wrong, I have to deal with it," Brianna said, frowning at the other woman.

"That is why I went to Lowtown. You are either capable of the discretion and skill that I need or you are not," Petrice retorted, glowering at Brianna in turn. "And I will remind you, I am offering a fair price for this job – seven sovereigns."

Mardin sighed inwardly, watching Brianna's eyes widen just slightly. Seven sovereigns, he knew from their conversation earlier today, was quite a significant chunk of what she still needed to collect, and not an amount that she could turn down in her current situation, whatever the dangers of the job. Sure enough, she nodded at the sister, saying, "I can get him out of Kirkwall. He's a bit conspicuous for the streets, though."

"Better out there than here with the Templar," Carver muttered from behind them, making Mardin grin slightly. It was a sentiment he fully agreed with; whatever other Templars were like, he didn't trust this Varnell in the slightest.

"That is obviously not an option," Petrice said haughtily, obviously choosing to ignore what Carver had said. "You must avoid incident with the guards . . . I cannot be linked to this. This mage will be a fine example of how cruel Qunari are, even to their own. But only if this plays out just so." The sister walked over to the entrance to the other room, where the Qunari had come in from, and pointed to a trapdoor built into the floor in the corner. "The passage here leads to the warrens of the Undercity. It is dangerous, but that is why you were hired. Good luck."

Brianna sighed, but nodded, heading into the other room, gesturing for the others to follow her. Surprisingly enough, the Qunari did as well, though he had been perfectly motionless up to this point. Mardin went last, backing into the room after the others, never taking his eyes off Varnell. He couldn't shake the feeling that he'd have to kill this man someday, though he didn't know if it would be today or not.

However, neither of them moved, and he eventually climbed down through the trapdoor, using the ladder built into the wall, and followed the others through the dimly lit passageway of wood and dirt, held up by ancient beams. It eventually led out into a larger area of tunnels, more like a series of rooms, but still made of dirt and wood, looking like they might crumble around them at any moment. This area was better lit, however, with numerous torches and lamps burning everywhere, letting them glimpse all the dirt, cobwebs, and garbage around them as they went.

"Tromping the deep dark with a horn-skull mage. And other colloquials to that effect," Varric declared as they went along, making Brianna smile, but for the most part, they all stayed quiet and alert, looking for any sign of a fight.

They eventually did run into a large group of those incredibly big spiders that seemed to be everywhere in this world, but were able to defeat them without too much trouble. Mardin noticed, however, that the Qunari mage merely stood off to the side as they fought, unmoving, and Fenris noticed too, commenting after the fight was done, "The mage seems indifferent to our struggles, even with his freedom as the prize."

"He seems indifferent to everything," Brianna muttered, studying the Qunari, who still didn't make a move or a sound of any kind. "I don't even know what to think."

"Let's just get him out of here and hope that this isn't a trap, shall we?" Mardin urged, waving them on, and Brianna nodded, taking up the lead again as they went through the passages. The Qunari, Ketojan, started moving as soon as they did, following along behind, still eerily without making a sound.

Mardin frowned as he took up the rear, watching Ketojan closely. He still couldn't decide how he felt about the Qunari on his own, because of the still-overwhelming feeling that the whole thing was a trap. He didn't know if this Qunari was in on the trap, or merely a victim of it, but he knew something was going to happen, and it was only a matter of time.

They came out into a large, open space of the tunnels a few moments later, a very large room compared to most of the narrow passageways they'd been going through, and before they were halfway across the room, a group of rough-looking men in ratty armor had suddenly arranged themselves across their path. Mardin grinned as he spotted them, even as he heard Brianna sigh. This was not the trap, he knew; this was just a bit of fun, and he definitely could use some fun right now.

"Look at this," declared one of the bandits, as their group stopped a few feet away. "Undercity's feared by all, but there's no shortage of fools with coin who want to test it." Ketojan came up next to Brianna, prompting the man to continue, "What is this thing, collared like a dog lord's bitch? You some sort of Qunari lover?" he added, turning back to Brianna. "Maybe I should get rid of you and see who'll pay the most for your pet."

Mardin had come up on Brianna's other side, waiting for the opportunity to draw his sword and kill someone, and was surprised to hear a snarling growl, one he distinctly recognized as being a warning, come from Ketojan. It was the first noise he'd heard the Qunari make, and the first indication that he was even aware of what was going on around him.

Another one of the men standing next to the apparent leader of the bandits said nervously, "Uh, I don't think it likes you threatening its master. Maybe we let this one pass."

The leader took a few steps closer, sneering, as Brianna said mockingly, "A voice of reason. What's he doing with you?"

"You lot think you're so damned right, buying everything, running Free Marchers like me into our own sewers," the leader snarled back as he pulled a small dagger out, taking another step or two closer to Brianna. Mardin scowled, reaching for his sword, as the bandit continued, "You want us bound, like this thing. I'll see you dead first."

Brianna was reaching for her staff as the leader raised his dagger and Mardin was moving to intervene, but before either of them could do anything, a powerful blast of magic burst forward from Ketojan, sending everyone but the Qunari flying, bandits and their own party included.

Mardin tossed his sword aside as he flew through the air, just in time to keep Brianna from being impaled on it as she sailed right into his arms. He landed hard on his back on the ground, skidding a few feet, and wrapped his arms around her to keep her from flying away from him into a wall. When his momentum finally stopped, he scooped her up, getting to his feet as quickly as he could while holding her before setting her down carefully. "Are you okay?" he asked, trying to catch his breath. He refrained from the urge to tell her how much he'd enjoyed the feel of her in his arms, however briefly it had been, knowing this wasn't the time, and that she wasn't ready to hear it yet, besides.

She nodded, her face flushed as she looked about for her staff, which had also been thrown aside in their flight. "I'm fine, thank you, what about you?"

"No harm done," he replied briefly, looking for where his sword had landed, "but I'd better find my sword before there is." He gestured to the bandits, who were scrambling to their feet, shouting.

"By the Void! Kill it! Kill them all!" one of the bandits screeched, just as Mardin spotted his sword several feet away. He raced over to it, even as Brianna found her staff, and sprang forward to meet one of the bandits, noticing that the others had got to their feet as well and were facing off against the panicked bandits. Ketojan stood off to the side, fireballs shooting from him at bandits every so often, while fire raged in a circle around him.

The bandits, as Mardin had thought, were both easy and fun to kill once he had his sword back in hand, and so long as he avoided the wild fireballs shooting from the Qunari mage. It took little time at all for their party to dispatch the bandits, but once they were done, though the wild shooting of fireballs stopped, there was still a ring of fire raging around Ketojan as he stood to the side, snarling.

Brianna went over to him, one hand on her staff, and, Mardin hoped, with an ice spell at the ready as she waved her other hand at the Qunari mage. "They get the idea, qunari . . . Ketojan . . . whatever. Calm yourself, please," she said, trying to keep her voice low and soothing, but urgent at the same time. Mardin jogged across the distance separating them to back her up, as did the others, but it turned out to be unnecessary.

Just as he reached her side, the Qunari gave a low rumbling growl in response, but the tinge of warning was gone from it, and the flames surrounding him abruptly disappeared.

Brianna slowly put her staff away, her head tilting with curiosity as she studied Ketojan. "Did you react because your lead was threatened?"

The answer, of course, was nothing but a growl, not even one that Mardin could interpret; all he knew was that it lacked any real threat.

"I know that kind of blind instinct," Fenris said quietly as he studied the bound mage as well. "It is hard to judge how much control he has."

Mardin glanced at the elf sharply; Varric had mentioned something about Fenris being a former slave, and Mardin wondered if Fenris had been possessed of that same blind desire to protect his master when threatened. It was a disturbing thought; Mardin had never witnessed slavery, and he wondered just what one person would have to do to another to turn a fierce and skilled warrior like Fenris into a blind attack dog. He decided he probably didn't want to know, if it was anything like what had been done to this Qunari in front of him.

Brianna sighed, shaking her head. "I'm getting you out of here before you 'help' again."

Ketojan merely growled again in response, causing Brianna to throw her hands up in exasperation. "Still clear as a bell. Great. Let's go before he sends us all flying again."

They all nodded in agreement, following Brianna as she led them the rest of the way out through the passageways. Fortunately there were only a few more passageways, gradually sloping upwards and turning from wooden walls and beamed ceilings into rocky cave walls, eventually bringing them out on the side of a hill through a cave mouth in an area of the Wounded Coast, though not the area where Mardin had first met the others.

It was still night out, of course, though the clouds had disappeared, causing the moon and stars to shine down brightly on the rocky beach, making it easy enough to see – especially when combined with the bonfire burning on the hill across from them, where a large group of Qunari stood.

"Oh, by Andraste's flaming sword," Brianna grumbled as she noticed the warriors descending down the hill to the flat stretch of beach where they had all emerged.

These Qunari were all covered in red body paint, wielding various weapons, and one of them wearing a barred mask, obviously the leader, stepped forward to address them as they gathered on the beach a few feet away. "You will hold, basra vashedan. I am Arvaarad, and I claim possession of Saarebas at your heel. The members of his karataam were killed by Tal-Vashoth, but their disposal leads only here, to Saarebas and you."

"I knew it," Mardin murmured to Brianna, as he came to next to her, his hand flexing with the desire to draw his sword. He'd been waiting for the trap to descend, and this was obviously it; Sister Petrice had somehow led a trail of dead Qunari bodies straight to them, for this group of warriors to find. For what reason, he didn't know, but he doubted it had anything to do with them personally; she'd just needed a group of victims for something.

Brianna sighed, nodding to him briefly before turning to the Qunari, hands up in a peaceful gesture. "I just got here, coming from the other way. If there was a trail, I didn't leave it."

"Yet you are here with Saarebas," Arvaarad answered shortly, his tone uncaring. "The crime is his freedom, his leash held by unknowing basra. We will not allow that danger to continue. Let your own mages doom you – Saarebas will be properly confined."

"And if he doesn't want to go back?" Brianna asked carefully, making Mardin smile. That reckless bravery and compassion of hers never ceased to impress him.

Arvaarad took a few long strides forward, towards Ketojan who stood on Brianna's other side, snapping out, "Saarebas! Show that your will remains bound to the Qun."

Ketojan immediately went down on one knee, bowing his head, and the Qunari leader nodded, satisfied. "He has only followed you because he wants to be led. He is allowed no other purpose."

Brianna didn't bother to respond to that, instead asking a question that was bothering Mardin also, "You don't care that someone abused your dead to get you here?"

"No doubt they were cast from your shoulders as you or your partner thieves grew weak. It is a crime whose victims are beyond caring," Arvaarad responded coldly. "It will be dealt with, but the greater threat is clear. It is my role to secure Saarebas. It is the role of another to purge the perversions of your kind."

Perversions? Mardin thought, raising his eyebrows. They sewed the mouths of their own shut, and they thought humans were perverted? Wasn't that just hypocritical?

As if thinking the same thing, Brianna demanded, "He is bound and abused, and you want him caged. Why?"

"The power that he has, that all Saarebas have, draws from chaos and demons. They can never be in control," the Qunari leader snapped in return.

"So you fear them," she said quietly, and Mardin realized this had to be hitting rather close to home for her, as a mage herself. She was glancing at Ketojan, as if wondering how she would do with such a fate.

"We leash Saarebas because they are dangerous and contagious," Arvaarad growled, as if mildly insulted that she would imply they were afraid of anything. "Not even your Templars fully grasp that threat."

Brianna was slowly shaking her head, and Mardin could already see what she'd decided before she even told the Qunari leader, "I'm not giving him to you. He'll choose his own path."

"He wants what the Qun demands. He is nothing else. You, basra," Arvaarad snarled, pointing his finger at Brianna "your kind have no sense." He pulled out a golden rod, continuing, "The opportunity for reason will be forced upon you." The end of the rod began to glow strongly with blue magic, and the Qunari leader pointed it at Ketojan, who fell to his hands and knees, his whole body glowing blue as he evidently became paralyzed in place. "You will all be brought to the Qun!" Arvaarad finished on a roar, as he tucked the rod into his belt and drew his sword along with the other warriors.

Mardin considered shifting again for the second time that day as he charged forward to meet Arvaarad's sword with his shield before he could reach Brianna, but he dismissed the idea again as soon as he thought it. He couldn't be sure of how his companions would react, whether they would be fine with it or whether they would view him as more of a monster than those abominations of theirs. No, he couldn't risk it, not yet, and given how long of a day it had been, he wasn't sure he could sustain the shift for long anyway. So he simply caught the Qunari sword on his shield, throwing every bit of his shifter strength behind the block, and sent the leader stumbling back a few steps. Arvaarad's eyes widened briefly in surprise, but he was charging forward again in the next second.

Carver and Fenris were on either side of him in seconds, meeting the other Qunari warriors head-on; Fenris, racing forward with his markings glowing eerily in the night, ripped out the heart of one Qunari before he'd even had a chance to raise his spear. Carver used the distraction afforded by this move to run another warrior through, while Brianna sent a blazing firestorm down on the Qunari clustered in behind their leader, and Varric's bolts merrily pierced through the complete lack of armor on the chest of the warriors. Mardin suspected that the small explosion that sent two more Qunari that were bearing down on his right side flying was due to Varric also, but he had little time to think about it as he matched Arvaarad blow for blow.

"You!" Arvaarad snarled as Brianna hit him with an arcane blast in the back, causing him to stumble just enough to give Mardin the opportunity to slice open a shallow wound along the Qunari's side. "You are Saarebas also!"

"Yeah, look at me being unleashed and contagious everywhere," Brianna taunted him. "And just so you know, I'm doing all this without a demon." She sent an arc of chain lightning through the Qunari moving towards Carver and Fenris, temporarily freezing them and allowing the two to cut their way through a few of them with minimal effort.

Arvaarad roared with rage, and tried to move around Mardin to get to Brianna, but he wasn't having any of it; he threw the Qunari back with a full-strength shield bash, swinging his sword in a lethal arc right after, causing the Qunari to have to dodge backwards or get skewered. "You're facing me," Mardin snarled at him, and deliberately let his shift slip through just enough to darken his eyes brown and his canine teeth to double in size before he let everything flash back to normal. It was a favourite trick of his to strike fear in his opponents, and he was pleased to note that it worked as well here; a brief shadow of fear passed through Arvaarad's eyes as he growled out, "What manner of demon are you?"

"The kind that doesn't like cowardly hypocrites who sew their companions' mouths shut," Mardin answered him coolly, pressing his advantage then with a flurry of blows, herding the Qunari leader back around so Brianna could get another clear shot at him. This time, she hit him in the back with a spear of ice, causing Arvaarad to stumble forward, and Mardin ran him through, slamming his sword home at full strength, batting the Qunari's sword aside with his shield as he tried to raise it again, then yanking his sword back out as Brianna hit the leader with another arcane blast, distracting him long enough for Mardin to open up his throat and finish the fight.

As Arvaarad's body hit the ground, Mardin darted past him to help Fenris and Carver with the remaining warriors; between the three of them, Varric's bolts and Brianna's impressively angry magic, the other Qunari warriors soon lay dead on the ground. By this point, Mardin, Fenris and Carver were all bleeding from several shallow wounds, but they'd fortunately picked up enough healing and lyrium potions from the Bone Pit earlier to restore them, along with the help of the healing spell that Brianna knew. Once she was satisfied with them, she hurried over to Ketojan, who still remained on his hands and knees. "Can you stand?"

Ketojan grunted in response, shakily gesturing at the golden rod still tucked in the dead Arvaarad's belt. Brianna pulled it out and tossed it to Mardin, who looked at her with a raised brow as he caught it. "Can you break it?" she asked impatiently.

Well, damn. She'd definitely noticed more than he'd expected her to. He sighed, deciding there was no point in denying it, and snapped the rod in half. A blast of magic nearly knocked him over after that, but he just barely managed to keep his feet as he tossed the broken pieces aside. She was definitely going to want an explanation eventually, he knew, as he could see the others staring at him in surprise.

Ketojan got to his feet before anyone could ask Mardin any awkward questions, facing Brianna as he began to speak slowly, uncertainly, clearly careful of the stitches still holding his mouth mostly shut. "I am . . . unbound. Odd . . . wrong . . . but you deserve honor. You are now Basvaarad, worthy of following." He gave Brianna a brief bow. "I thank your intent, even if it was . . . wrong. I know the will of Arvaarad. I must return as demanded. It is the wisdom . . . of the Qun." Without waiting for an answer from Brianna, he turned and began walking towards the shoreline, where Mardin could see faint traces of light beginning to break the darkness of the horizon beyond.

"So after all this, now you want to die?" Brianna demanded, hurrying after him. Mardin followed a bit more slowly, curious as to what Ketojan was up to, the others falling in behind him.

"I do not want to die," Ketojan replied carefully, shaking his head. "I want to live by the Qun."

"Which means dying," Brianna said flatly, halting only a few feet away from the Qunari mage.

"Yes. Is that hard to grasp?" Ketojan asked, tilting his head slightly as he looked at her.

"Could you have returned if I'd let these others live?" Brianna asked, gesturing at the bloodied bodies behind them. As hard as she was trying to keep her face impassive, Mardin could see she was upset; she'd clearly hoped to give this Qunari mage a life of freedom, but it seemed that wasn't what he wanted.

"No," Ketojan said simply.

Brianna sighed. "You were doomed from the start?"

"I was outside my karataam. I may be corrupted. I cannot know," the Qunari mage explained, though his explanation made little sense to Mardin. Fortunately, he could see by the looks on the faces of the others that he wasn't alone this time. "How I return is my choice. It must be, but that does not mean there is no meaning."

"Others of your kind live outside the Qun," Brianna tried next. "You could join them."

Ketojan shook his head. "They are not my kind. I am Qunari. They are not."

"They have chosen to be free," Brianna told him, obviously frustrated.

"Free?" Ketojan repeated, sounding confused. "They have refused what they are. I . . . can't choose to 'not be'."

"Hawke," Fenris said quietly, and she turned to look back at him. "You gave him the right to choose. Let him use it."

Brianna stared at the elf for a moment before nodding. Mardin could see his point as well; if this was what Ketojan wanted, they had no right to deny him that, or they were no better than Arvaarad. She turned back to Ketojan. "Well, I suppose my job ended when we exited the city. The rest is up to you."

"You know of certainty and borders. You are closer to the Qunari than you admit. Your role would change little if you accepted the Qun," Ketojan told her. He took something that appeared to be an amulet out of a pouch, handing it to her. "Take this secret thing, Basvaarad. Remember this day." He turned from her then, walking a few steps away, and suddenly his entire body lit on fire. He made no noise, no cry of pain or bit of protest, as the fire consumed his body, simply fell to his knees and let the fire turn him to ashes.

Mardin could only stare, appalled, trying to ignore the horrible scent of burnt flesh and hair permeating the air. Wanting to die was one thing; choosing fire as a way to do it was another. There were much easier ways the Qunari could have killed himself.

"What is wrong with these things?" Carver said in disbelief as Brianna came back over to them.

"She may not have known exactly what was going to happen, but clearly Petrice set a trail right to us," Brianna snapped, her violet eyes burning with righteous anger.

"We did what she wanted," Carver replied, frowning. "Why give us away?"

"It's probably because she had some other purpose, a bigger plan, and this was only a piece of it," Mardin said quietly. "I don't know what her plan is, though."

"Probably something to do with politics," Varric sighed. "Whenever something bat-shit crazy happens where a lot of people die, it's usually because of politics. Or religion. Or both."

"I bet she wanted those Qunari to kill us, and Ketojan." Brianna pointed at the bodies behind them. "Then she could say to everyone else, 'Look what the Qunari do, even to people who try to help their own'. We weren't supposed to live through that fight."

"It would seem she underestimated us, then," Fenris said simply.

Brianna nodded. "She did. But she's not getting out of paying us." She stalked back towards the entrance, and Mardin and the others fell in behind.

Mardin breathed in a sigh of relief as they went; it seemed Brianna either had forgotten to ask about his strength because she was furious at Petrice, or she'd decided not to press him about it. Either way, he didn't have to answer any awkward questions right now. Just as he'd thought that, though, Varric dropped back next to him where he was bringing up the rear as they went back through the tunnels.

"So, Red," the dwarf began conversationally, "just how did you get so strong?"

Mardin chewed on the inside of his cheek, trying to decide how best to answer him. Finally, he landed on an answer he thought Varric might enjoy. "Lots of training," he told the dwarf with a wink, "and I ate lots of turnips every day growing up."

He grinned when Varric laughed. "Liar," the dwarf said, but it was without heat. "No one eats turnips willingly." Varric shook a finger at him. "Sooner or later, I'll find out, Red."

Mardin merely smiled at him, relieved that he wasn't pushing it. They would find out eventually, he knew, for he'd have to tell them sometime. But he wasn't ready for it yet. And answering the question of how he was so strong would lead to a whole host of questions he couldn't answer right now. Fortunately, Varric was the only one who brought it up, and they made it back to the safehouse without incident.

Mardin insisted on going up first, just in case Varnell was waiting, and Brianna nodded, allowing it. "Do you want me to kill them?" he asked her quietly as he reached for the ladder, seeing the fury still burning in her eyes.

She blinked a little, obviously surprised, and seemed to consider it for a moment before she shook her head. "No. They might deserve it, but it's too risky to kill a Chantry sister and a Templar."

He nodded, respecting her wishes. This was her world, and he would follow her lead. Varnell, he was sure, would eventually die at his hand, but it wouldn't be today. He climbed up carefully and quietly through the trapdoor, crouching on the floor next to the opening, and offered Brianna a hand to lift her through the rest of the way when she came up the ladder after him. She stalked over to the entrance to the next room as soon as he let her go, and he hurried after her, not wanting her confronting the Templar alone.

He could see Petrice directing Varnell to pack up things as they approached the door, saying, "Leave nothing. It must be clean with no ties. It . . ." She halted when Brianna slammed her staff down on the floor, turning to them, eyes wide with surprise which she quickly covered up. "Well. My helpful associate from the streets. You . . . took the Qunari from the city? Without incident?"

Varric, who had come up the ladder next and was now standing on Brianna's other side, said coolly, "I think the 'incident' was rather your idea."

"Mind your tongue, dwarf," Varnell snapped.

Petrice held up a hand to quiet him, and the Templar stepped back as she nodded at Brianna. "Please. Do speak your mind."

Brianna stared at her coldly, her hand gripping her staff tightly. "Don't string me along. You know that I know."

"It was all a set-up," Mardin added. "You wanted those Qunari to find us."

Petrice shook her head. "Whether you believe it or not, I wished you no harm. That might have been useful for someone, but still regrettable." She walked back and forth, explaining, "A massacre of citizens protecting a slave might have forced the Chantry to doubt appeasement, to see the Qunari for the monsters they are. Perhaps finding the mage was a rushed opportunity. If such a plot existed, I see how it might be . . . disagreeable to you."

Mardin snorted. He didn't agree with what the Qunari did to mages, but he agreed even less with what Petrice had tried to do. "The Qunari are the monsters, when you wanted us slaughtered just to set your politics in motion?" he asked derisively.

Petrice glared at him, but she didn't answer, obviously choosing to ignore him.

Brianna gave a long sigh, eventually strapping her staff to her back. "I want no part of your little war. Pay me what I'm due."

Petrice scowled, digging money out of a pocket of her robes. "Take your coin. Disappear back into Lowtown. Rest assured I will not make the mistake of looking for help outside the faithful again. The stakes – eternity – are just too high." She slapped the coins into Brianna's hand before marching to the door of the safehouse, Varnell following her with one last glare their way.

"We'll be hearing from that one again," Fenris predicted, watching the door slam behind her.

Brianna sighed, tucking the coins into her pouch. "I really hope you're wrong, Fenris." She rubbed her hands over her face. "Well, I think that's more than enough for one day. We should all go get some rest now."

"That sounds like an excellent idea, Hawke," Varric proclaimed, stretching and yawning. "I think I might even skip my pre-bedtime drink, it's so late."

Mardin and the others nodded in agreement as they all exited the safehouse, for it was apparent by the continual lightening of the sky that dawn was fast approaching. They made their way over to the Hanged Man, which was across from the stairs leading up to Hightown, and Brianna nodded at them all. "Thank you for your help today, everyone," she said, "and here's everyone's share of the jobs for today." She passed out some coins to each of them, though Varric waved his off. "I think we'll take tomorrow – or today, I guess – off. I don't think I have any pressing matters to take care of right now. I'll let you all know when I need you again."

They all said their goodbyes, parting ways after that, and once Mardin was sure Carver was heading home with Brianna, he followed Fenris back to the mansion for some much needed sleep.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mardin had taken the opportunity to sleep the majority of the day away, and only got up when the rumbling of his stomach became too much. This happened to be right around suppertime, and he decided it would be the perfect opportunity to go find Anders and buy him supper and a drink in exchange for conversation about his sister.

He'd always had a good head for directions, so it didn't take him long to find his way down to Darktown and back to the clinic he'd met the mage in the other day. Fortunately, Anders didn't have any patients when he arrived, and was more than willing to shut the clinic down for the night to go get some food.

Once they reached the Hanged Man, Mardin steered Anders over to a small, empty table in the corner and waved the barmaid over. Once she'd taken their orders and some of the money Mardin had earned yesterday to pay for everything, he turned to Anders and asked quietly, once he was sure no one was close enough to hear, "How much do you know about my sister?"

Anders, too, looked around them briefly before saying in a low voice, "You're asking if I know where she's really from and what she can really do, right? Or rather, what you both can really do?"

Mardin nodded, unsurprised. He'd expected by Anders' reaction to his eye change - the lack of surprise or fear - that he knew about shifting. "So you know, then, that we're shapeshifters, and we're not from –" he hesitated, trying to decide how to word it.

"This world," Anders finished, his voice nearly a whisper. "Thedas. Yes, I know."

"Thedas? Is that what you call it?" Mardin filed this information away; so far he'd only heard the names of a few cities and countries in this new world. He was relieved that Anders knew and obviously accepted the truth about who he was; it would make everything so much easier. If he had any questions that the others would think of as weird, he could merely ask the mage. "So, do all of the Wardens know?"

Anders shook his head. "Not all of them, no. Just those of us that have been with the Commander and your sister from the beginning, when they first started rebuilding the Wardens. Back then, there weren't very many of us, and there were so many dangerous things going on that it was nearly impossible to keep secrets. Eventually, Ayla had to shift in front of us, and then she and Commander Alistair had to explain just what that meant. Once we understood, they swore us all to secrecy. They thought, the fewer people that knew, the better." Anders glanced around furtively, adding darkly, "There's no telling what the Chantry and the Templars would think of you two, or what they would do when they found out."

"'What manner of demon are you?'" Mardin said wryly, quoting what the Qunari leader had said to him yesterday.

Anders nodded. "Exactly, yes. They'd likely think you two some new type of demon, or abomination, and have you locked up for study. It's far too risky to tell just anyone. So none of the newer recruits were told unless it became absolutely necessary, and we were sure we could trust them."

So obviously, Mardin thought, his sister's mate knew all about her, which made sense, of course. She couldn't have undergone the bonding ceremony without explaining to him where it came from. And it was likely that those people she'd fought the Blight with besides her mate, that Varric had briefly mentioned, knew as well, for Anders was right. When you were continually in life-threatening situations, it became far too difficult to keep your abilities a secret, as he was rapidly finding out. His sister had probably been forced to shift at some point during that Blight and reveal her true nature to everyone just to stay alive. At least he knew for sure now that shifting would work here, and some people, at least, could be trusted with his nature.

"And none of you . . . had a problem with her being a shifter?" he asked carefully.

"No, none of us," Anders answered, shaking his head. "Especially not me. I know what it's like to be judged for what you can do and what you are. But she saved our lives with it more than once, and we were all pretty close, besides that. We trusted each other. And Wardens have their own . . . abilities and issues. None of us felt like we could judge her for what she is."

"That's good to hear," Mardin said, smiling. It was unusual to hear of a shifter not being judged by those who weren't shifters, and he was happy to hear that his sister seemed to have found a place that she fit in, where no one was calling her a demon or a wild animal, taunts they had both often heard. "But . . . did you all know that . . ." he hesitated. "We can lose control. It doesn't happen often, but if it does, we would attack even our friends."

"We knew," Anders reassured him. "It never happened that I saw, but she told us all about it, in case it did. It's no different from mages, except it's reversible, as I understand it; abominations are not."

"Reversible?" Mardin frowned, looking at him. "You mean if someone can get close enough to knock them out, or wound them badly enough to shift them back?" He'd only heard of a couple of incidents where that happened; usually a shifter who'd lost control ended up being killed before they killed someone else.

"No, no, a sleep spell," Anders said hastily, looking at him. "Do mages in your world not have such a thing?"

Mardin shook his head. "Not that I know of. You mean you know a spell to put people to sleep?"

"Yes, most mages here do. It's a pretty basic spell, and apparently, it does work on shifters," Anders explained. "As I heard it, your sister did lose control once during the Blight, when she thought Commander Alistair was dead, and one of the mages with them used a sleep spell on her when she tried to attack the Hero of Ferelden. Well, I guess he was just a Warden, back then. Anyway, it worked; your sister was herself when she woke up, and no one got badly hurt."

Ayla must have been horrified, to hear that she'd lost control and tried to attack someone, Mardin thought, frowning. It was every shifter's worst nightmare; the fear that what everyone said about them being wild animals and monsters was true. But yes, if she'd thought her mate was dead, that easily could have been enough to push her over the edge. Rage and grief at losing a loved one, either one's mate or family, was usually the number one cause; if he ever found out that someone had killed Ayla, he doubted he'd be able to keep himself under control, either. "If you ever see me lose control, I want you to use that sleep spell on me," he told Anders. "Under normal circumstances, I won't, but if I hear about something happening to Ayla, well . . ." he shrugged. "You saw me when we first met."

"Of course," the mage replied, nodding seriously. "If I happen to be around, that is. Hawke knows a sleep spell, too, though. You should . . . ." he hesitated, studying Mardin carefully. "You should probably tell her soon, just in case."

Mardin sighed. "I know. I know I should. I just – I don't know – "

"How she will react?" Anders supplied gently.

"Exactly. Demon? Monster? Wild animal? I've heard all of those," Mardin said, trying to keep the bitter edge from his tone and not quite succeeding. "And that's from my world, where there's a lot of us shifters."

Anders shook his head. "Hawke won't judge you, I promise you. No mage – or at least, no mage with any sense," he amended, rolling his eyes, "would have a problem with you."

Mardin nodded slowly, remembering how happy Brianna had looked when he told her he wouldn't judge mages without getting to know them first. "What about the others?"

"Well, I can't speak for the _elf_ ," Anders spat with a sneer, "but I don't think Varric or Carver would have a problem. Carver has been around mages all his life, and Varric has been very accepting of me, a possessed mage, so I doubt he'd have a problem with you."

Mardin raised an eyebrow. "You and Fenris don't get along, I take it?" Now that he thought of it, he did seem to remember hearing Fenris say something along the lines of "abomination" when talking about Anders before, though he hadn't been totally sure of what he'd heard at the time.

Anders snorted. "You could say that. He hates all mages simply because they're mages."

"I see," Mardin replied, deciding he didn't want to get in the middle of this one. From what little Varric had told him, he knew that Fenris's former master was a mage, meaning that however prejudiced Fenris might be, there was certainly a reason behind it, and it was definitely not a situation that he wanted to involve himself in if he could avoid it. "But what about the rest of it, where I'm from? Do you think she'll believe that?"

Anders smiled, his attention apparently successfully diverted from Fenris. "Well, as it happens, she's already been asking me what I know about you and your sister." He explained to Mardin how Brianna had come to see him early yesterday morning, with questions about where he was really from and who he really was.

Mardin laughed in spite of himself. "She saw through me right from the beginning? And here I thought I was doing so well!"

Anders chuckled. "That's Hawke for you. Anyway, she obviously doesn't know what it all means, but I think once you tell her the truth, she'll see how it makes sense. It was hard for all of us Wardens to accept at first, too, but we came to realize that it _did_ make sense, however unusual it was. It explained all of the things Ayla didn't know that she should, and all the things that she could do that no one else here could; and, of course, all her references to a country and culture no one had ever heard of."

"And if she doubts me at first, you'll back me up?" Mardin asked Anders. "If I have someone else that can verify my word, that will probably make the whole thing seem less . . . crazy."

"Of course," Anders agreed. "If she doubts you once you've told her, I will tell her what I know. By that point, it will no longer be a secret for her."

Before Mardin could say anything further, he heard Varric's voice call out above the din of the crowd, "Red! Blondie!" He turned his head to see Varric standing on the stairs leading up to the second floor, waving at them. "I'll be right there!"

"Well," Mardin said as Varric began to push his way through the crowd towards them, "it seems it's time to talk about something else. I don't know want anybody to know yet, not until I'm ready to tell them."

"Of course not," Anders replied. "As I told Brianna, even if I'm not a Warden any longer, this is one secret I will definitely keep. I owe your sister and the Commander too much to ever break that promise."

"Thank you," Mardin said gratefully, nodding at the mage. "I know Ayla would appreciate it. Anyway, you might as well tell me some stories about her time with you and the Wardens, then. I told Varric he could listen in on those. Just skip over the more suspicious parts," he added, winking at Anders, who laughed.

"Great to see you, Blondie," Varric declared, reaching their table at the same time as the barmaid did with the food and drinks. "I've got a whole pile of questions I need to ask you, now that I know your Commander was one of the heroes of the Blight!"

"I would expect nothing less, Varric," Anders replied with a smile, as Mardin thanked the barmaid for their food, and Varric ordered himself an ale. "Where would you like to start?"

"Oh, that's a tough one," Varric mused as he pulled a chair up, planting himself in it. "Let's see . . . oh, I know! How about the fight against the archdemon? He must have told you about that one, right? I've heard some crazy things about the battle at Denerim. Do you know, some of the fighters that were there swear they saw a panther fighting the archdemon? A panther!"

Mardin tried his best not to choke on his mouthful of ale as he shot a glance at Anders, whose eyes widened with surprise for a brief second before he recovered. "A panther?" the mage said with a laugh. "Wouldn't a griffon make more sense?"

"Exactly!" Varric exclaimed, slapping the table. "That's what I said! If you're going to embellish a story, it should at least be something believable! Everybody knows the Wardens used to fight with griffons before they went extinct. No one's ever heard of them using panthers before, and just how would you get a panther to do what you told it, anyway?"

"It would be difficult, I suspect," Mardin said gravely, seeing Anders' lips twitch in amusement. Unable to help himself, Mardin added, "It would probably only listen about half the time, if that."

This time, Anders choked on a mouthful of ale, and when he finally recovered from his coughing fit, he shot a glare at Mardin, who merely shrugged innocently in response.

"You okay, Blondie?" asked Varric in concern.

"I'm fine," Anders managed hoarsely. "It just, uh, went down wrong. So, you wanted to hear about the fight with the archdemon? The Commander didn't really like to talk about it, but he did tell us the story once."

"Great!" Varric exclaimed, pulling out a leather-bound journal and a stub of lead. "Tell me everything you remember. All the details he told you!"

"Okay," Anders said, and proceeded to tell Varric the story, though it was a panther-free version, of course.

Mardin listened, though he only half paid attention to the parts that didn't include his sister, as he thought about what he and Anders had talked about. He did need to tell Brianna and the others soon about his shifter nature, he decided. It might be easiest just to show them, however, and it would likely be best to show them in a battle where they could see how useful it might be, one with staggering odds. Given the way things always seemed to go with their jobs, he was sure there would be a useful opportunity soon. He could only hope that Anders was right about the way she and the others would react; he didn't know what he would do otherwise.


	6. Don't Be Afraid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mardin agrees to help Brianna and the others recover the Viscount's son; in order to survive against the group of mercenaries they have to confront, Mardin finally has to use his shifting abilities in front of the others, praying that they will still accept him afterwards. Brianna must deal with her feelings on the matter, and demands answers.

Chapter 6: Don't Be Afraid

It had been a couple of weeks now since the job with Sister Petrice, and a surprisingly quiet couple of weeks at that. They had still performed a few jobs, but they were standard fare; escorts or deliveries, and nothing unusual or complicated. Mardin was beginning to grow restless, and he could tell that Brianna was too; there were only a few weeks left until the expedition was due to leave, and he knew that she still didn't have the full amount of money she needed. The jobs they'd taken recently hadn't paid much; at least, not enough beyond what she had to give him and the others and keep for the care of her family. And though he'd tried to wave his share off a couple of times, as Varric did, she hadn't let him. He hoped that something larger came up soon; both for her sake and his own.

He preferred challenging fights, for starters, and he'd barely had to unsheathe his sword the last couple of times they'd gone out. Besides that, he wanted an opportunity to use his shifter abilities in front of Brianna and the others; an opportunity where they couldn't deny the usefulness of his abilities, in case they were reluctant to accept them. But that would require a battle beyond the capabilities of his sword arm or their party's combined strength, and nothing like that had occurred in the last couple of weeks. He was beginning to wonder if he might not just have to go ahead and show her anyway, as much as he was reluctant to do so.

The other factor contributing to his restlessness was how badly he wanted her. Ever since the night he'd walked her home, and he'd seen how truly determined she was not to simply give in to temptation, he'd decided to back off. She was apparently determined that they get to know one another better first before she allowed him to bed her, though he wasn't sure if there was a certain required length of time they had to know one another or a list of things they needed to know about each other before it occurred. Either way, it was obviously important to her, and so he'd promised himself he would let her make the next move, whenever she happened to be ready, even if it was killing him in the meantime.

Which it was; especially difficult had been the morning she'd come across him naked. As flustered as she'd been, she'd also been aroused; he'd smelled it on her, and it had been incredibly intoxicating. He'd ached to get closer to that smell, to find out if the taste of it was as heady as the scent, but he'd kept himself under control, as difficult as it had been. He knew he could have seduced her at that point with little difficulty, but he'd also known she would have regretted it afterwards, and likely would never have let him near her again. And he knew he wanted more than one night with her; it would take him several nights, possibly even a few months, to sate his desire for her.

Therefore, he knew he had to let her come to him; she knew what he wanted, he'd made it clear enough. She just had to accept what she wanted, and he hoped that would occur soon. He'd even given her bits of information about himself he would rather not ever have revealed; about his father, his father's death, and his thirst for revenge, in the hopes it would create more trust between them. But, after talking to Anders and realizing she'd known all along he was lying to her about where he was from, he wondered if she wasn't waiting until he finally confessed the truth to her. She had yet to ask him directly about it, or press him for more information; he was grateful for it, but at the same time, he fervently wished for something to come along and break them of this holding pattern they were both in, free them of this waiting and tension.

He hoped that something would occur soon; he was beginning to grow bored, as well as restless. Over the past couple of weeks, he'd tried to occupy his time as much as possible; first, he'd written a letter to Ayla, and with Varric's help, had gotten it onto a ship bound for Ferelden and Vigil's Keep, where Anders had said she and her mate lived along with the other Wardens. Varric had warned him, however, that it would take a few weeks for his letter to reach the Keep, and a few weeks for her reply to return. And that, of course, was assuming that Ayla was even at the Keep when the letter arrived; Anders had said it was equally likely she'd be out on a mission, and might not return for some time. He hoped she'd be there, or at least would return soon, and could come to Kirkwall at some point as he'd asked her in the letter. He badly wanted to see her with his own eyes and know for certain that she was safe and happy.

Once the letter had been sent, he'd moved to cleaning up the mansion. Fenris had balked at first, for a couple of reasons, Mardin suspected. One, he was pretty sure Fenris had thought he'd been telling him to do the cleaning. Once he'd told Fenris _he_ was doing the cleaning, with or without help because he couldn't stand the smell, the elf had seemed to relax. The other reason was that Fenris hadn't wanted anyone to know that the mansion was occupied, so Mardin had told him they would leave the outside as dirty and unkempt as he wanted, but the inside was not negotiable. In the end, the elf had conceded and they'd gotten the mansion respectably clean within a few days.

Following that, Mardin had moved on to training and sparring, along with Fenris and Carver, using the great hall of the mansion, which had plenty of space for them to fight in. Though both were skilled and talented, Mardin had noticed fairly quickly that neither of them had much training in the basics. He'd picked out an elbow too high here, a move too telegraphed there, a side-step too slow there, that sort of thing, and had offered training along with the sparring sessions.

Again, Fenris had balked at first, apparently too proud to accept the fact that he might need a little help. After the third time Mardin had knocked him flat in their sparring sessions, though, the elf had grudgingly conceded that "some instruction would not be amiss" and they'd begun the training as well. Carver had overheard them discussing one of their training sessions a couple of days later, and to Mardin's surprise, had asked to be included. It had become a daily thing after that; Mardin relentlessly drilling them the same way his father had drilled him since he was eight years old, learning to protect his sister. In between the training had been sparring sessions; sometimes Fenris and Carver would spar while Mardin watched for mistakes, but just as often he would spar with one or both of them as well. They were learning quickly, though; the bouts were becoming lengthier and coming to a draw as often as not. Soon it would likely end up just being the sparring sessions, though Mardin was hoping they wouldn't have quite so much free time on their hands in the future.

Brianna, he'd discovered, had taken their sudden free time to train with Anders and improve her healing skills. He suspected it had stemmed from the incident at the mines when she'd been unable to heal his wounds without the help of healing potions, and tried to squash the tiny part of him that wanted to reflect on how worried about him she'd been. As often as not, they ended their days of respective training at the Hanged Man with Varric, learning the card games of Wicked Grace and Diamondback while downing a few ales. Merrill, the young elven girl they'd met on Sundermount, often joined in as well; both Varric and Brianna seemed to have taken it upon themselves to look after her. It was amusing to watch Carver stumble his way through trying to compliment her or flirt with her, and equally amusing to watch most of what he'd said go right over the naive young mage's head. It made Mardin curious about how such things worked here, though; did it always take this long in this world for people to bed one another, or to even admit that was what they wanted?

Personally, he hadn't gone this long without a woman since his first time when he was fresh out of training, and it was beginning to wear on him. He was used to controlling his temper and his animal half; he was just now realizing that he'd never really practiced any restraint when it came to his lust. He'd begun to consider the fact that he should perhaps find himself another willing woman until Brianna finally made up her mind; surely there had to be some women in Kirkwall who enjoyed casual mating. He'd discovered from Carver that there was a place called the Blooming Rose where most people in Kirkwall went when they wished casual mating, but they apparently paid for the experience, which was a foreign concept to him, and not one he was sure he wanted to explore. He failed to see how it was better to pay for mating with someone who was not the person you'd originally desired, rather than simply enjoying the company of the one you wanted in the first place, though he knew Carver had gone a couple of times to try to relieve his feelings about Merrill; unsuccessfully, he suspected.

However, he was sure there had to be some other women around Kirkwall who weren't quite so restrained when it came to mating; he'd caught more than a few women giving him lustful glances when they'd walked through the city, and he was fairly certain that at least some of them would be willing. He'd found some of the women attractive enough, but for some reason, he had not found them nearly as tempting as Brianna. And none of them carried that delicious scent of vanilla and citrus, or the even headier scent of arousal that she had. Besides, he'd never given up on a challenge; he wasn't about to start now, he reasoned with himself. He could wait a bit longer; surely she had to come to her senses soon. And maybe a job would come along soon where he could reveal to her who he truly was.

Perhaps it would even be today, he thought as he stumbled out of his room in search of food. He and Fenris didn't tend to keep a lot of food in their poorly stocked kitchen, usually eating at the Hanged Man, but there was always at least some bread and cheese or dried meat. He was wearing his leggings as he made his way into the kitchen, having discovered a few days ago that Brianna wasn't the only one who became rattled by his nudity when he came across Fenris eating breakfast one morning. He'd never seen the stoic elf quite so flustered and embarrassed before, making him realize another difference in this world; apparently people here did not share a shifter's penchant for sleeping in the nude when safely indoors.

He wasn't quite sure what the root cause of it was, but as a general rule, all shifters felt more comfortable wearing as little as possible when sleeping. This was obviously impractical when one was travelling, as there were many dangers to be faced out in the wild, often leaving the members of the Order with little choice but to wear clothing and armor while out on missions. When at the barracks or otherwise safely indoors, however, they wore as little as possible overnight, and had often come across one another nude or nearly so; it was a common occurrence and one they were all quite comfortable with. This was obviously not the case in Thedas, though, and so Mardin had made the concession of at least putting on leggings before he left his room, so as not to make Fenris or anyone else who might come in unannounced uncomfortable. As much, he thought wryly, as he'd enjoyed Brianna's reaction and would like to repeat the experience, it was probably unfair to her.

He was partway through his meal, washing down the slightly stale bread with a mug of water, when Brianna walked in the room as if his thoughts had summoned her. Her gaze snapped almost immediately to his bare chest, and he realized even that much was enough to fluster her as she flushed pink; her gaze skimmed quickly downwards, and he noted with amusement that she seemed both relieved and disappointed to find that he was wearing leggings. A whiff of that heady arousal drifted past his nose again, and he gripped his mug tighter, trying to quell his body's reaction to the scent.

She looked quickly back up at his face. "Fenris said you'd probably still be eating breakfast."

"Well, we don't all get up at the crack of dawn like the two of you," he returned mildly. "Is there a job today?"

"Actually, I think there might be. I was heading through Lowtown this morning when I spotted a poster; it seems the Viscount's son has gone missing, and they're offering a bounty for whoever finds him. I thought I'd come by and see if you and Fenris would help; Fenris has already agreed, and Carver and Varric are waiting outside. We'll have to go to the Viscount's Keep first, and find out the details, but I think this will at least pay better than that last escort job," she finished, rolling her eyes.

Mardin grinned. "Well, one would certainly hope so. But of course I'll help; just give me a few minutes to get dressed and I'll meet you by the front door." He stuffed a large bite of bread in his mouth, trying to finish his meal quickly, and she nodded, calling over her shoulder as she went to leave the kitchen, "Make sure to wear your new armor."

He grunted his assent around his mouthful of food, trying to refrain from rolling his eyes; after the incident with the dragon had effectively destroyed his chainmail and tunic, she'd insisted that he buy new armor. They'd argued over it, as he flatly refused to wear plate armor, splintmail or even heavier types of chainmail, but eventually they'd found a suit of hardened drake scales, dyed black, as well as a light overshirt of silver chainmail woven with blue threads that he'd agreed to wear. The sky blue of it reminded him a bit of his Order tunic, and the drake scales were surprisingly tough, and more importantly, he could still shift in it; he'd tried it once, briefly, when he'd been alone in the mansion. His father had always insisted that heavy armor would impede shifting, and so he'd never worn any, but it appeared that drake scales were of no more impediment than fur or clothing. He'd even purchased a few more common articles of clothing along with the outfit, leather leggings and plain tunics, but as often as not he wore the drake-scale armor now any time he left the mansion.

So as soon as he'd hastily downed his breakfast, he retreated to his room and donned the armor along with his sword and shield, which he rarely left the mansion without either, and he _never_ left without at least a couple of daggers on his person. Once he was ready, he met Brianna and Fenris by the front door, and they met up with Carver and Varric outside, several feet from the door, as they made their way to the Viscount's Keep.

Mardin had yet to be in the Viscount's Keep, though he knew that another of Brianna's friends, a woman named Aveline, lived there in the barracks with the guards. He had yet to meet her either, as she was apparently too busy taking over the guards as their new captain to attend any of their card games at the Hanged Man. Brianna led them through the large black double doors that marked the front of the Keep, nodding at the guards as they passed, and into the grey-tiled entry hall, two massive pillars holding up the weight of the roof above. Stairs were before them, carpeted in red, leading up to the second level in a split fashion. The Keep was surprisingly crowded, even this early in the day; numerous people were moving around inside, some clearly nobles dressed in fine silks or velvets, others more common people in cotton or leather outfits. The city guards in their orange-tinted plate armor were stationed at the bottom of the stairs and by the door, keeping a close eye on everyone who went by.

Brianna weaved her way through the crowd of people, and they followed her up the stairs to the first balcony, where a long carpeted hallway led straight ahead. Mardin could see the barracks off to the right, many more of the heavily-armored guards going in and out, as well as several doors that likely led to other offices. Brianna, however, turned to the left, where another set of stairs went up to two much larger doors, an ornate golden statue sitting at the top. As they came up the stairs, Mardin made out a man's voice saying in chilly, cultured tones, "Insist if you must, but Viscount Dumar will see no one! If you've news of Saemus, I will relay it to him."

When they reached the top of the stairs and stopped, Mardin could see that it was an older man who'd spoken, with red hair in a similar shade as his own, wearing a fine reddish-brown tunic trimmed with gold and grey breeches. Everything about him said haughty nobleman as he faced off against a hard-faced woman with short brown hair, dressed in leathers and sporting two wicked-looking daggers on her back. His instincts went off in alarm as soon as he saw the woman; he itched to reach for his sword.

"Fine," the woman snapped at the older man, tossing her head. "Tell Dumar my scouts have tracked the boy and his Qunari captor to the Wounded Coast. I'm taking a full company after them, and when I return, I expect him to make a show of the reward."

The man frowned at her. "So many to deal with one Qunari seems . . . excessive."

"He may be Tal-Vashoth. The Winters leave nothing to chance." Not waiting for an answer, the woman turned and stormed away, shoving her way roughly past Brianna and Carver, who'd been standing in the middle, snarling, "Get out of my bloody way!"

It took everything in Mardin not to attack her then and there; it was only the feeling that killing someone in the Viscount's Keep would be frowned upon and get them in more trouble than not that stopped him. Back home, at Fallor Castle, no one would have contested him had he said his instincts told him she was too dangerous to let live; the King and his Knights of the Fox, shifters themselves, would have felt it as well as he had. Here, however, he knew that wouldn't be an acceptable reason, so he clenched his hands into fists so tightly his knuckles went white and allowed her to pass. In the meantime, Brianna, without so much as a glance backward at the woman, had approached the man she'd just been speaking to.

"Yes, what is it?" the man asked her with a heavy sigh.

"Well, it seems I'm not the only one who saw the bounty posting," Brianna said easily, not reacting to the way the man was studying her.

"Apparently so, and I am regretting it," the man returned coolly as he crossed his arms. "I am Seneschal Bran, and as I told the others, Viscount Dumar's son, Saemus, is missing. We suspect he was taken by a Qunari. If you would like to try your hand at securing his safe return, feel free. I have certainly granted no exclusivity to the Winters and their violent approach." He shook his head as he waved his hand in the direction the other woman had gone.

"There must be suspicions about why the boy went missing," Brianna offered carefully.

"Why?" the Seneschal demanded. "What have you heard?"

"Nothing," Brianna replied, "until now, that is."

Seneschal Bran scowled at her, and Mardin stepped up to Brianna's left side, not liking the look on the older man's face as he retorted, "There is truly nothing known. He is gone, and there have been sightings of a Qunari. The only complication is that Saemus is known to be . . . of a sympathetic mind. He may have placed himself in danger, but it is danger nonetheless."

Which meant, Mardin thought, that the boy had run away with one of the Qunari, by the sounds of it. He could see why the Viscount didn't want people to know that, however, with the tensions in the city about the Arishok and the Qunari; it would look bad if the leader's son was sympathetic towards a group so many in Kirkwall viewed as an enemy.

Brianna was frowning thoughtfully, as if weighing what to do next, and she turned to Mardin, raising her eyebrows in silent question, as if to ask what he thought. He frowned, and jerked his head in the direction the woman from the Winters had gone. Taking the cue, Brianna turned back to the Seneschal. "What can you tell me about our competition?"

Bran put his hand to his forehead for a moment, shaking his head in clear exasperation, before he finally answered, "The Winters, out of Nevarra. They don't care one whit if Saemus is returned unharmed. Their lead, _Serah Ginnis_ ," he said with sarcastic emphasis, "is hungry for a foothold in fair Kirkwall. And frankly, we have enough of their kind."

Mardin saw Brianna faintly bristle, as if she suspected the comment was directed at them, but she merely said, "Ready the reward, he'll be back in no time. And in one piece."

The Seneschal shrugged. "Declare it if you like, but the reward goes to whomever brings him back safe. A discussion you are welcome to have with the Winters, should you encounter them." Bran raised his eyebrows as he said precisely, "On the Wounded Coast."

Brianna simply nodded before she turned and headed back down the stairs, Mardin and the others following. When they were outside the Keep again, Mardin said mildly, "It sounds as though he wouldn't mind if we accidentally got rid of our competition along the way."

"It does seem that way," Brianna agreed. "And judging by the way that Ginnis woman acted, we probably will have to, if we want the reward for ourselves."

"We should take caution," Fenris warned. "A full company of mercenaries would outnumber us more than four-to-one."

Varric nodded. "I'm with Broody. As good of a story as it would make, we should hightail it out to the Coast and see if we can't beat the Winters there."

"And if we don't, let's just hope it's worth the reward," Carver added, though Mardin noted he looked a bit excited at the thought of testing his skills against such odds.

For his own part, Mardin couldn't help but think this was exactly the sort of opportunity he'd been waiting for, if they did end up fighting this company. Indeed, it was the whole reason Fallor had so many shifters in the first place, to even their odds when fighting against the larger armies of countries bigger than their own. And in the opinion of many, Mardin included, the shifters were the only reason Fallor was still an independent country. Besides the fact that their shifted states made them better able to fight against otherwise overwhelming odds, it also had the often added benefit of instilling terror in their enemies, causing chaos and even desertion among the ranks. Yes, if they had to fight the Winters, this would be the perfect opportunity for Mardin to show his companions his true self, he decided.

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It took a few hours of searching along the Wounded Coast before they finally found the right spot, and by the time they arrived at the rocky, secluded little peninsula jutting out into the water, it was too late. Ginnis was already there when they emerged from the rocky cliff walls into the sandy, open area of the peninsula, standing above the bloodied body of a Qunari, her daggers dripping blood onto the ground below. A young man with black hair, in a silken outfit of green and gold, that Mardin assumed must be Saemus, was slumped on his knees next to the Qunari, tears streaming down his face. There were four other men in leather armor ranged in the open area beyond. Brianna held up her hand, halting them all several feet away from the Qunari's body.

"And the world's rid of one more Qunari. Easier than I expected," Ginnis sneered, before she called to the other men over her shoulder, "Call the men back. We've got an appointment with the Viscount. Isn't that right, Saemus?"

Saemus looked up at her, his eyes burning with grief and rage. "Ashaad . . . you killed him. You . . . you vashedan bitch!" He spat out as he stumbled to his feet.

"That one of their words?" the mercenary asked mockingly as she twirled one of her daggers. "See, that's why you need to be dragged home. You're playing too nice with those things. I'll wager you've gone even further than that. Haven't you, brat?"

Brianna, apparently deciding it was time to intervene, stepped forward a few more feet, and Mardin stayed close to her side, hand already on his sword hilt, as did the others. "A little rough for a rescue, don't you think?" Brianna demanded coldly.

Ginnis turned to them, her eyes narrowing. "Competition? Well, you're too late. The Winters . . . _I_ have already claimed him."

Saemus, however, turned to Brianna with something akin to relief breaking through on his face. "Serah! If I must go back, so be it, but I will not see these . . . murderers rewarded!"

"Spoiled shit!" Ginnis snarled. "I'll cut out your tongue and charge extra for bringing you back quiet!" Saemus flinched back as she raised her daggers, still red with blood, and took an offensive stance. "And as for you . . . I could do with some entertainment while we wait for the others."

Ginnis launched herself forward at Brianna, but Mardin was ready, stepping between the two and slamming his shield forward with all his strength, sending the woman flying back a few feet. She sprang up almost immediately, however, racing forward to engage Mardin again even as the other fighters with her raced towards his own companions.

The fight only lasted a few minutes, however; though decently skilled, the mercenaries had no mage or archer with them, and it was a simple matter for Mardin, Carver and Fenris to keep the fighters busy while Varric and Brianna picked them off. Mardin was able to run Ginnis through while she was temporarily paralyzed by a ball of lightning that Brianna had shot at her; he made sure the job was finished, too, filled with relief at the quieting of his alarmed instincts.

"Dead and good riddance," Saemus said when the last of the Winters was down, "but . . . she said she was waiting for more. A lot more!"

"Well, let them come," Carver said determinedly, that excited gleam in his eye again, and Mardin couldn't help but smile. _Give the boy a bit of extra training, and he thinks he's ready to take on the world._

"Then we'll just have to ready a fitting welcome," Brianna said reassuringly to Saemus, before she glanced back at the three open trails in the rocks behind them, nodding at Varric who moved to start setting some traps. Fenris climbed to the top of an outcropping of rock to keep an eye out as she turned to Mardin, saying in an undertone, "I'm not sure if we can face off against an entire company."

"Don't worry," Mardin told her, squeezing her shoulder gently and fighting the surprising urge to take her in his arms just to comfort her, "I have a plan."

She frowned up at him, her gaze faintly suspicious. "What kind of plan?"

"Just . . . watch." He let go of her shoulder with some reluctance. "Stay behind, and pick off any stragglers that get past me."

"What are you talking about –" she began, but Fenris interrupted her at that moment, calling from the top of the rocks, "They are coming!"

Mardin took a deep breath. _It's now or never._ "Don't be afraid, all right?" _Please don't be afraid_. "It's still just me." Without waiting for her answer, he walked forward, tossing his shield aside and sheathing his sword, heading for the middle path into the rocks that Varric had left open of traps, letting the change pass through his body as he reached the opening.

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Don't be afraid? What in the Maker's name would she be afraid of? Brianna wondered, her mind tumbling with so many questions as Mardin walked away from her, even as she felt her shoulder still tingling from his touch. Just what was it that he was going to do to defeat an entire mercenary company, and why did he throw aside his shield?! She was about to run forward after him, though she had no clear idea what she planned to do, when she thought she saw his body shimmer. She blinked hard, thinking maybe it was an illusion of the bright sunlight streaming down on the rocks and sand, but no, there it was again. His whole body was shimmering, and then suddenly, rapidly, his body began to change.

Within seconds, in the place where Mardin had been standing, was an enormous grizzly bear. She'd seen a few grizzly bears outside of Lothering, back when they'd lived in Ferelden, but this one was even larger, nearly another foot taller at the shoulder, and its whole body bigger and heavier-looking, besides. She blinked again, then pinched herself, hard, wondering if she was dreaming and in the Fade. But, no, pain shot through her where she'd pinched. "Is anybody else seeing this?" she asked faintly.

"Well, shit," was Varric's only response, but the astonishment in his voice was answer enough for her.

"Did he just . . . turn into a bear?" Carver asked, looking – and sounding – as shocked as Brianna felt.

"I do not understand," Fenris murmured, having jumped back down from the rocks to rejoin them. "He is not a mage . . . is he?" he added a trifle uncertainly, turning to her.

"No," Brianna replied, shaking her head, certain of that much, at least. She had felt no manipulation of the Veil upon his change, no sensation that magic was being performed, and yet she had no idea how else he could have done it. The only time she had ever seen anything like this was when Flemeth had turned into a dragon, and yet she knew that had been magic; she'd felt it, felt the shift in the Veil. This was what he'd been hiding from her, but she hadn't the slightest clue what it meant.

"First a dragon witch, and now a bear man? Man-bear?" Varric was muttering next to her, but he suddenly brought his crossbow up, and Brianna saw why.

One of the traps Varric had set on the side path had gone off, along with a scream of pain, and she could see a few mercenaries coming down the path beyond Mardin – or the bear? – that were only a few feet away. The bear raised its head, letting out an earth-shaking roar that made Brianna flinch in spite of herself, before it lumbered forward surprisingly quickly, pouncing on the first mercenary in its path. The man went down with a scream, blood spraying up, and in only a few short seconds, the bear was moving on again. The other mercenaries behind the first had halted at the sight, and a couple of them turned and ran.

Varric readied his crossbow. "Well, however he's doing it, Red is providing us with a great distraction."

"And it would be a shame not to use it," Carver agreed, and before Brianna could stop him, her little brother was racing forward, sword out, Fenris at his side.

She held her breath, frozen with fear, as they raced past the bear on either side, wondering if it would suddenly pounce on one of them, but it didn't even seem to notice as they raced by, going after the fleeing mercenaries. Instead, it remained focused on the mercenaries before it, ripping through them with alarming ease, blood flying and pained screams sounding that ended in gurgles. She let out a breath of relief when she saw that it seemed to only be after the mercenaries.

"What, did you think he was suddenly going to attack Junior or Broody?" Varric asked her quietly. "Like he was an abomination or something?"

"I don't know, I –" _Don't be afraid. It's still just me._ His earlier words came back to her, and she realized with sudden clarity that she had used very nearly the same words herself before, when telling one of her former lovers in Ferelden that she was a mage. Along with it, came the memory of how he had been afraid anyway, and had let that fear – that hatred – drive them apart. How could she be so hypocritical? She shook her head, ashamed of herself, forcing herself to think logically and get beyond her initial, instinctual fear. "No, of course not. This was his plan to help us, that's all. So let's help him." She raised her staff, readying a spell.

Varric nodded in approval. "That's more like it, Hawke." He aimed Bianca carefully at one of the mercenaries emerging from the side path, stepping over his fallen companions' bodies, and the bolt flew unerringly to pierce the man in the center of his forehead before he crumpled to the ground.

Brianna sent a fireball at another two mercenaries coming down the other side path, blasting them apart in an explosion of flame, and the battle continued onward in much the same fashion. She and Varric remained back, guarding Saemus and picking off any mercenaries that got past the others, and after several minutes, the other three came back. Carver and Fenris were covered in blood, most of it not their own, Brianna suspected, and so, too, was the bear covered, its brown fur stained mostly red now. The bear halted several feet away, settling down on its haunches and watching them carefully.

"Oh Andraste," Saemus breathed from behind her, as Carver and Fenris came nearer, wiping blood off their faces, "I've never seen so many corpses. So much blood!" Saemus pointed a shaky finger at the bear. "And that man – that _thing_ – is it a demon? An abomination?"

Brianna winced, even as the bear stood up, snarling. She moved forward, surprised at her own sudden bravery, and held up a calming hand to the bear. "Relax, he didn't mean anything by it, okay? He's never seen anything like this before; none of us have." The bear settled back down with a huff, making grumbling noises. _It really is him_. She turned back to Saemus, reassuring the young man, "There's no need to panic. He's not a demon, and he's here to help, just like we are. Now pull yourself together, there may be more."

To her astonishment, since she still had no idea how any of this was possible, the bear gave what appeared to be a nod of agreement, its massive, shaggy head moving up and down, before it turned and lumbered back down the path again. Carver and Fenris raised their swords and followed after the bear as another wave of mercenaries came charging forward down the paths, seemingly disregarding all the corpses of their fallen companions.

Some of this group were apparently braver than the last, trying to attack the bear; the weaker weapons didn't even seem to pierce his hide, but some of the sharper or larger swords did, opening up glancing blows along his side and causing him to roar with rage. He reared up, swatting them aside with immense paws, sending them flying through the air, one or two of them slamming into the rocky walls on either side, and then came down hard on the fallen bodies. After that, most of the mercenaries stuck to trying to attack Carver or Fenris, but the bear watched their backs carefully, hunting anyone going after them with a particular vengeance, and Brianna wondered how she could ever have thought he would have attacked them. She and Varric stayed where they were again, picking off anyone that emerged to try to get to Saemus, and after what seemed like an eternity, the second wave was finally down as well. Which was fortunate, Brianna thought, as by that time, she was exhausted and nearly out of magic.

This time, when the three fighters returned, Mardin had changed back to himself again; he stopped to pick up his shield, strapping it to his back before he came over to her, limping a little as he went. Brianna realized with surprise that he must be injured; though she could not see the wounds he'd taken as the bear beneath his armor, which was surprisingly unmarred, it was obvious by the way he clutched his side they were still there. He was also alarmingly pale, she noted, and looked drawn and exhausted as he stopped a few feet away from her, his ice-blue eyes infinitely wary as he watched her. When she wordlessly handed him the two healing potions she had left, knowing she didn't have enough energy for a healing spell at the moment, the sudden relief on his face was indescribable, and it made her heart ache.

He'd been expecting condemnation, she realized now; he'd thought her reaction would be the same as Saemus's, or maybe even worse. And hearing what Saemus had said, she knew now why he had felt the need to hide who he was. She just wasn't sure how this answered any of the questions she'd had about him. When he'd finished drinking the potions, she told him quietly, "You have some explaining to do, when we get back."

"Lots of explaining, Red," Varric added. "Enough to fill a book."

"I don't suppose that's something you can teach me?" Carver asked hopefully.

Mardin laughed and shook his head. "I'm afraid not." Turning to Fenris, who was watching him warily, he went on, "And if I was going to attack you, Fenris, I would have done it already, instead of guarding your back. In human form, I don't bite – men, that is." He winked at Brianna, who couldn't help but smile, and Varric burst out laughing.

"I am relieved to hear it," Fenris said dryly, though he couldn't quite suppress a grin of his own, and seemed to relax at the words. "Besides which, Hawke says you are not a mage, which means that is not the power of a demon, nor can you be an abomination. That is all I need to know."

Brianna rolled her eyes. Though she was relieved that Fenris didn't seem to have a problem with whatever Mardin was, his prejudice against mages was still extreme. Apparently, it didn't matter what crazy thing you might be in Fenris's eyes, so long as it meant you weren't a mage.

"Are there any more coming?" she asked Mardin.

He shook his head. "So far as I can tell, that's the last of them."

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask just how he could tell – obviously those good instincts that Anders had mentioned had something to do with his ability to turn into a bear – but she knew now wasn't the time for what would obviously be a long story. They needed to get Saemus back to his father. She turned to see where he was now, and found the young man on his knees next to the body of his Qunari friend again. She went over to him, and at her approach, Saemus looked up, eyes red from tears.

"Ashaad never lied, never coddled," he said softly. "You were worth his time, or you were not." He took a deep breath, standing up again. "They are not the brutes others claim they are. Take me to my father, and I will try again to make him see."

No, Brianna thought, remembering Ketojan, they weren't all brutes, just as all mages weren't abominations. Of course, that didn't mean they couldn't be dangerous when pressed – both the mages, and the Qunari. She wondered if sometimes it wasn't a curse to be able to see both sides, but shook the thought off as she turned to Saemus.

"It's clear this was not your first encounter with this 'Ashaad'," she said gently.

He shook his head. "I met him soon after their ship foundered. I had run, again, to escape the Keep and my father. Ashaad was to map the coast to 'find an answer for the Arishok.'" He waved at the rocky coast around them. "I had so many doubts. The Qunari have none."

"I wasn't aware that Qunari take many friends." They might not all be brutes, but Brianna had not imagined them as the type to go about making friends, either.

"Perhaps it isn't the right word," Saemus replied thoughtfully. "I am the Viscount's son, bound by everything that means. Ashaad did not care. We were both seeking something. That was enough."

Brianna nodded. She could see how it would be appealing to be around someone who didn't care that you were – whatever you were, a mage, or the Viscount's son, or something else. She cleared her throat. "I confess, I'm not sure what one does with a dead Qunari. Would you like us to bury him?"

Saemus shook his head before he shrugged. "The body is no longer him and is worthy of no special treatment. That is apparently their way."

"Well," she tried again, "maybe his people should be told?"

"They will know," Saemus replied with certainty. "Whether they will deign to acknowledge it or not, I have no idea. There was much of Ashaad that I didn't understand, but it was so very worth trying."

"Well, we should take you back to the Viscount," she said after a moment. "He is clearly concerned for your safety."

Saemus scowled. "The 'Viscount' sends thugs to do a father's job. I was in no danger until his 'help' arrived." He pointed at Ginnis's body, still lying on the sandy ground several feet away.

"Perhaps if you'd told him your wish was to be out here with this Ashaad, he might not have felt you were in danger, and sent people to look for you," Brianna suggested, though she didn't know why she felt the need to intervene. The last thing she needed was to be in the middle of a father-son spat.

"Keep your assumptions," Saemus snapped. "He doesn't hear me. He is as tired of being disappointed as I am of bearing it. And now Ashaad is dead. It's not right." The anger on his face faded, and he sighed. "I am ready to leave, and you have coin to collect, I'm sure."

Brianna frowned, but she didn't rise to the barb; it was true enough that they'd come here to earn money, after all. So they made their way back to the Keep, bringing Saemus with them, and were mostly silent along the way. She wanted to ask Mardin so many different questions about what she'd seen, but she didn't think it would be fair to ask him to spill all his secrets in front of Saemus. She'd simply have to wait until they got back to Kirkwall, and she could ask him somewhere in private.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They reached Kirkwall a few hours later, in the late afternoon, and took Saemus immediately back to the Keep and up to his father's office, which they were surprisingly allowed to enter, likely due to Saemus's presence, considering most people had given their blood-soaked selves a wide berth in the Keep. Though Seneschal Bran had a mildly disgusted look on his face at their appearance, he led them into the room.

"Father . . ." Saemus said quietly, and not at all enthusiastically, as they entered.

The Viscount strode forward, a look of relief on his face. He was an elderly man, nearly bald, with only a few wisps of white hair around the sides of his head, poking out from beneath his black crown, and white stubble for his beard. He wore long black robes that swished along the ground as he walked. "My son. I thought I'd lost you." He held out his arms as he approached Saemus, out in front.

Saemus stepped away from his father's embrace, holding up his hand. "Enough, Father."

Seneschal Bran cleared his throat, obviously eager to gloss over the uncomfortable reunion as he stepped forward, waving to Brianna and the others. "Er, allow me to present one Serah Hawke, Your Excellency, and her companions. They fulfilled the bounty."

The Viscount turned to them, the look of disappointment on his face at his son's behaviour changing into a surprisingly warm smile. "You have my gratitude. I hope you encountered no great difficulties on my son's behalf."

"Well, we wouldn't have had any problems, had it not been for the pile of mercenaries that tried to kill us," Brianna told him honestly.

Viscount Dumar frowned. "I was told the Winters had involved themselves. Was there no way to avoid an incident?"

Brianna tried to fight back the scowl that wanted to come to her face. The Viscount obviously had little concept of the world outside his office, but she needed to make a good impression, for her family's sake. "Not if you wanted your son back in one piece, no," she said as diplomatically as she could. "They were quite . . . rough and threatening in the manner of the rescue, and didn't take at all kindly to Saemus saying he'd rather go with us."

"They murdered my friend!" Saemus snapped at his father. "Where is the concern for that?"

Viscount Dumar turned to him with a frown. "It was my understanding you were captured alone, foolishly traipsing about the coast as you do."

"I was not captured," Saemus said impatiently. "I was with Ashaad. The Qunari. They are not monsters to be feared. If you would just try to understand, others would see as well."

The Viscount shook his head. "Better that you were thought abducted than to have their influence suspected in my own family . . . benign or not, it's too much."

This time, Brianna couldn't stop herself as she said coolly, "Your son is right. Perhaps if you'd taken the time to listen to him, instead of concerning yourself solely with appearances, the whole incident might have been avoided." Had the Viscount just left his son be, that Qunari would still be alive, and she would not have had to endanger the lives of her brother and friends to recover Saemus from the Winters. She had no illusions about what could have happened without Mardin's strange abilities, and it was the Viscount's inability to listen to his son that had brought the whole thing about.

"That is . . . quite enough!" Seneschal Bran stammered, sounding both shocked and enraged. He turned quickly to the Viscount, who looked equally shocked. "My apologies, Excellency, for this intrusion into personal matters! There is no . . . just . . . move!" he snapped at Brianna, nearly shoving her out the door. She went out willingly enough, happy to be free of the argument, and so did the others, though they looked less than pleased at the treatment.

This was proven true when they got outside the office, and the Seneschal closed the door behind him, scowling at them all as he faced them. Mardin stepped forward, saying in a low, evenly controlled voice, "You should take care with how you treat the lady in the future."

Brianna flashed a surprised look at him, even as she felt inexplicably warm at his defense of her. He wasn't looking at her, however; his gaze remained trained on the Seneschal, who backed down after a moment of haughty scowling, turning to Brianna and giving her a stiff bow before saying, "I'm impressed with your skill. Less so with your tact. But better you than the Winters, I suppose." So saying, he handed her five sovereigns, before turning away to indicate he clearly considered the conversation over.

Brianna shrugged, tucking the sovereigns into her pouch. She didn't particularly want to be around the snobbish Seneschal any longer, and this gave her some much-needed money that she could put towards the expedition. She gestured to the others to leave, and they turned and headed down the stairs away from the offices.

"Where to now, Hawke?" Varric asked as they reached the doors of the Keep.

"Well," she replied, looking significantly at Mardin, who sighed, "there is someone who needs to answer a lot of questions. But I don't think the Hanged Man is the best place to talk about it; perhaps we could use the mansion for a bit first, to talk in private?" She looked at Fenris hopefully with this last bit.

The elf nodded. "That is fine. I would like to hear this explanation, myself."

It took them only a few moments to head over to the mansion that Fenris and Mardin currently shared, and they were soon all seated around the wooden table in the kitchen that Brianna had found Mardin in this morning, after they'd all quickly tidied themselves up a bit. The kitchen that she'd noticed was surprisingly clean; she hadn't been in the mansion in the last couple of weeks until this morning, only seeing them at the Hanged Man, but it was obvious that Mardin had brought about a few changes in that time, since Fenris had never bothered to clean in the months prior.

"Don't you have any ale, elf?" Varric complained as he arranged his leather-bound journal on the table before him, clearly ready to write everything down.

"No, dwarf, I do not," Fenris replied evenly, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. "I do, however, have some very fine bottles of Aggregio in the wine cellar."

Varric made a face. "Ugh. I'll just wait until we get to the Hanged Man, thanks."

Brianna shook her head at the two of them, torn between amusement and exasperation, before she turned to Mardin, who looked unusually nervous. "So, Mardin, care to start explaining?"

He hesitated. "Honestly, I'm not sure where to begin. It's . . . quite a long story."

"How about the part where you can turn into a bear?" Carver suggested dryly. "That might be a good place to start."

Brianna couldn't help but laugh at that, and even Mardin grinned, seeming to find relief in her amusement. "Fair enough," he conceded. "I'm . . . what's known as a shapeshifter, or as we usually call ourselves, a shifter. All shifters have the ability to turn into their animal kin, or the animal that is most like them. In my case, that happens to be a grizzly bear. In my sister's case," he turned a sudden knowing grin on Varric, "it happens to be a black panther."

Varric's eyes widened with surprise. "Shit!" he exclaimed, before he laughed. "So you and Blondie were having me on the other night! There really _was_ a panther fighting the archdemon at the battle of Denerim, then. Wait, that means Blondie knows about this, too?"

"He does," Mardin confirmed. "He learned about it from my sister, during his time with the Wardens. And as I understand," he turned to look at Brianna, "you already asked him what he knew."

"I did," she agreed unabashedly, meeting his gaze squarely. "I thought he, at least, might trust me." Mardin had the grace to look a little sheepish as she went on, "But he told me he'd promised your sister to keep it secret, and he couldn't tell me anything. But I still don't understand how either of you do it, if you're not mages, or why no one has ever heard of shifters until they met the two of you." She looked to Varric questioningly, and he shook his head; obviously the concept of shifters was new to him too. Fenris, too, looked confused, and she thought that if any place would have known of the existence of something like this, it would have been the Imperium. She turned back to Mardin, brows raised.

"That's where the long story part comes in," he answered her slowly. He took a deep breath before finally continuing, "The reason that no one has ever heard of shifters until they meet us is because we are the only ones in all of Thedas. My country, Fallor, where there are many shifters, does not exist in Thedas. We come from another world, called Sionac." He said all this quickly, as if determined to get it out before someone interrupted him.

Brianna simply stared at him for a moment, too shocked to form words. Had he actually said what she thought she'd heard? "Wait, what? You're from another _world_? You can't be serious!"

"Of course I am," he replied, sounding a trifle impatient. "Did you honestly think Thedas was the only world in all of existence?"

She blinked, glancing at the others; Fenris and Carver looked equally shocked, and merely shrugged at her. Varric was scribbling away furiously, muttering, "This is gold," and didn't even look up. "I . . . well, I never really thought about it at all, I suppose. But if I had, then I guess that's what I would have thought, yes. I would never have imagined that there were other worlds." And she still didn't know if she imagined that now. How could such a monumental thing be true?

"There are many worlds beyond yours and mine," Mardin told them. "As many as there are stars in the sky, or so the Messengers tell us. And all the worlds are all balanced on a scale, with varying levels of magic, contact with the World Beyond, and varying levels of darkness or light. And some have portals, or cracks, to other worlds, and those worlds, like mine, know about the existence of other worlds, but not anything else about them. That's why I didn't know about things that are common knowledge here, like darkspawn, the Blights, and that mages can be possessed by demons."

"There are no mages in your world?" Fenris asked abruptly, and Brianna looked at him, surprised. Did he actually believe all this?

"There are," Mardin replied, "but there is no danger of possession by demons in our world."

Fenris nodded, as if absorbing this. "And blood magic?"

"None that I've ever heard of."

"Then your world sounds vastly preferable to Thedas," Fenris said softly, bitterness ringing through every word.

"Well, every world has its own problems." A dark look passed across Mardin's face before he shook it off.

"And are there lots of . . . shifters, like you? Can anybody be one?" Carver asked eagerly, stumbling a bit over the unfamiliar term. Brianna wondered how everybody was accepting this so easily; but then, why would Mardin lie about something like this, something that sounded so utterly crazy? And it did explain everything she'd been wondering, answered all the questions she'd had, but she'd never expected the explanation to be so . . . unbelievable.

Mardin nodded, smiling. "Anybody that passes the trial, that is. During the trial, you must battle the animal that is most kin to you, and if you last long enough against it, you are granted the ability to share its shape. All the members of my Order were shifters; nobody can become a member without being one. It's the same with the King's personal guard, the Knights of the Fox, and the King himself. They're all shifters."

"Your strength," Brianna said suddenly, realizing that not all of her questions had been answered. "Is that part of being a shifter?"

"In a way. All shifters have certain . . . abilities beyond being able to change into their animal kin," Mardin explained. "We all get two, sometimes three, abilities even when we're not shifted, depending on what our animal kin is. I have a bear's strength and heightened sense of smell; my sister has a panther's heightened hearing and sense of smell. Another shifter might have enhanced eyesight, enhanced speed, that sort of thing."

"Heightened sense of smell . . ." Brianna said slowly. That was how he'd known what her soap was made of, she realized. And – "That's how you found the Flint company on Sundermount. But the . . . really good instincts, Anders called it? What about that?"

Mardin smiled a bit ruefully. "You noticed a lot more than I thought you would. But yes, I can track people by scent, so long as there's not too many other scents interfering, or rain hasn't washed it all away. The instincts are what you'd call a side effect, I suppose. Animals sense when things or people are dangerous to them, like when a big storm's coming; I can too, and so can any other shifter."

"The Wardens with your sister must find that handy," Carver remarked, and Mardin nodded.

"It does explain everything I was wondering about," Brianna admitted reluctantly, "but . . . I just . . ." How could she just accept something so unbelievable, so huge?

"Ask Anders, if you don't believe me," Mardin told her quietly. "As I told you, he knows all about it from my sister. He had a hard time believing it at first, he said, but he came to realize it made sense."

"That's why the stories say your sister is from Kirkwall," Varric said suddenly, looking up from his writing.

"It must be something the Wardens made up," Mardin agreed. "They couldn't say where she'd really come from, after all."

"Then, when you say that your sister disappeared three years ago . . ." Fenris murmured.

Mardin nodded at the elf. "That's when she came here, through the crack, the portal, between our worlds. I didn't know where she'd gone, not at first, and once I did find out, I didn't even know if she was still okay. Not until I talked to Anders."

_You have finally arrived_. Flemeth's words rang through Brianna's mind. "Wait, when we found you that day on the Wounded Coast, that was when you were just getting here?"

"I came through the portal and woke up on the Coast, basically right before you found me," Mardin confirmed for her. "Coming through isn't . . . exact. They couldn't just send me to wherever my sister had gone, and they didn't know where I'd come out. And of course I had no idea where I was. Nor could I tell you how I'd gotten there, so . . ." he shrugged.

"You lied about a shipwreck," Brianna finished for him, and he nodded.

"What else was I supposed to do?" he asked simply. "If I'd told you then how I'd ended up there . . ."

"We would have believed you delusional," Fenris supplied.

"Bat-shit crazy would be a better term, Broody," Varric said with a chuckle.

"And we would have left you there," Carver added, grinning, and Mardin rolled his eyes in response, though he was smiling.

"Wait," Brianna began, "if all this is true, just why are you and your sister here?"

"Oh, well . . ." Mardin looked suddenly uncomfortable, rubbing the back of his neck. "We're supposed to have destinies here, I guess. My sister's, I'm assuming, was to help stop the Blight, and continue helping the Wardens, I suppose."

"And yours?" Brianna prompted, though she had a sneaking suspicion she might already know.

"I don't know for sure," Mardin said at last. "Cranin wasn't very clear, but I'm supposed to help stop some oncoming darkness, and it has to do with who I first met when I got here, so it's got something to do with all of you, and that destiny of yours that Flemeth was talking about. I think it does, anyway. But that's all I know."

Brianna stood up abruptly. "I think I need a drink." She was starting to believe him, because it all made too much sense. Terrifying sense, and it was all simply too much for her to deal with right now. "In fact, I think I need a lot of drinks."

"I'm with you there, Hawke," Varric declared, tucking away his book and flexing his hand. "I think I'm getting hand cramps. I'll pick your brain more another night, Red." Mardin nodded as Varric went on, "Wicked Grace?"

"We might as well," Carver agreed, "if we'll be at the Hanged Man anyway."

"As long as you do not cheat this time, dwarf," Fenris answered darkly.

"I don't cheat!" Varric protested. "If you lose, Broody, that's your own fault!"

Brianna was already heading for the door, wanting to drink and not think about the terrifying concept of a destiny that caused a dragon witch to look at her in sympathy, or a warrior to be sent from another world to help her. "Can we just go?" she called over her shoulder impatiently as she walked out the door of the kitchen.

The others followed her, Varric and Fenris bickering over Wicked Grace the whole way, while Mardin and Carver came up on either side of her. "Can I ask you all not to tell anyone?" Mardin asked quietly.

"Who would believe us?" Carver said simply.

"Yes, that," Brianna pointed at her brother in agreement. " _I'm_ still having trouble believing it." Looking up at Mardin's face, at the worry buried deep in his eyes, she softened. "We'll keep it a secret, don't worry."

"Thank you." He gave her that genuinely bright smile of his that she saw so rarely, but when she did, it never failed to make her heart skip a beat, as it did not this time. _A warrior from another world_. No, she couldn't think anymore about it, she decided, not right now, and she picked up her pace, leaving the mansion and heading for the Hanged Man.

They reached the tavern in little time, and as soon as they entered, Brianna noticed a commotion up at the bar. A man was yelling at a woman, a gorgeous, dusky-skinned, scantily-clad woman who was studiously ignoring him while she drank her ale. Varric perked up almost immediately. "That looks like another story," he said brightly, and before Brianna could stop him, he was heading over to the bar, Mardin and the others following him. Brianna sighed before she hurried after them. It seemed like she wouldn't be getting her drink just yet.


	7. Enter Isabela

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brianna and the others meet Isabela and agree to help her. Isabela's flirting with Mardin makes Brianna more jealous than she expected, leading to some surprising consequences.

Chapter 7: Enter Isabela

They were only a few feet away from the dusky-skinned woman and the man yelling at her when Brianna noticed that there were two other rough-looking men drifting close to the woman as well. Varric stopped and hung back a little ways, as if sensing trouble he didn't want to get right in the middle of, though his hand drifted towards Bianca where she rested on his back. Brianna halted when he did, though she was now close enough to hear the man snarl, "You owe us, Isabela."

"Well, Lucky, I'll tell you what . . ." The woman calmly poured more alcohol from the bottle she held in one browned hand into the mug she held in the other, before continuing, "Since the information you gave me was worth nothing . . ." she took a swig from the mug ". . . that's what I'll pay you."

The man called Lucky put his hand over her cup as she went to take another drink, slamming it back down on the bar as he snarled, "Me and my boys will get our money's worth, bitch."

"Oh, you poor, sweet thing," the woman named Isabela drawled, leaning in close to the man as she grabbed his arm, before suddenly yanking him forward and slamming his head into the edge of the bar. One of the other men grabbed her from behind as Lucky tumbled to the floor, pinning her arms to her side, but she merely slammed her head back into his, making the man drop her briefly.

Mardin, who had gone to the other side of the bar to buy a drink as Varric had led them towards the argument, shouldered his way through the onlooking crowd just as the third man came up, taking a swing at Isabela, who ducked just in time to allow his punch to connect with the man who'd grabbed her, sending him to the sticky tavern floor as well. Before the third man could move, Mardin had already grabbed his shoulder and spun him around, punching him in the face. Brianna winced as the man went limp and crashed to the floor, though she could tell from the lack of effort behind the blow that Mardin had at least held back.

By this time, Lucky had scrambled to his feet, drawing his sword, but Isabela already had one of the daggers strapped to her back pointed at his throat when he turned to face her, one hand hovering over the other dagger. "Tell me, Lucky, is this worth dying for?"

Lucky slowly backed off, shaking his head as the man who'd pinned Isabela's arms got unsteadily to his feet. The two men quickly grabbed the arms and legs of their friend that Mardin had left unconscious on the floor, dragging his limp body off as Isabela chuckled. "I didn't think so." She turned to Mardin, giving him a very obvious once-over and smiling slowly. "Thanks for the help, sweet thing, but I didn't need it."

Now that they were this close, Brianna could see that this Isabela woman was even more beautiful than she'd realized from a distance. She had dark hair covered in a blue handkerchief, wearing a very low-cut white tunic that showcased a great deal of cleavage, while also being so short as to barely reach the top of her thighs. Her long legs were covered in very high leather boots, and she wore a thick golden necklace and a blue sash tied around her waist in addition to the daggers that were strapped to her back. In short, she was likely the most gorgeous woman Brianna had ever seen in person, and for the Maker's sake, even Fenris was staring at her cleavage. Face-to-face with this woman, Brianna couldn't help but feel rather self-conscious about her own average curves, and she didn't like the feeling.

"I can see that," Mardin replied, his tone admiring enough that Brianna clenched her fists, wondering at the sudden irritation that swept through her. "I couldn't quite stop myself from stepping in, though. Besides, it's rude not to share when you have so many opponents." He swept her the formal bow that Brianna had seen him employ when they first met, saying, "I'm C – uh, Mardin Trichlor, at your service."

"Oh, I hope so," Isabela drawled, taking a couple of steps closer to him.

Brianna frowned, and before she'd realized quite what she was doing, she'd stepped closer to the two of them, as well, holding out her hand. "I'm Brianna Hawke. This is my brother, Carver, and my companions, Varric and Fenris."

Isabela turned at the introduction, and Brianna was surprised to find herself the recipient of the same heated once-over that Mardin had gotten, as the woman shook her hand before checking out the others behind her, who offered their own greetings. She nodded. "Hawke, of course, I've heard the stories. You're not quite what I pictured, though. You're much prettier, for one thing, and not ten feet tall." Isabela winked at her.

Brianna flushed, withdrawing her hand. "Um, thank you." She glanced back at Varric, raising her eyebrows at him. "Just what kind of stories have you been telling about me?"

Varric shrugged, grinning. He'd somehow acquired a mug of ale during the last few minutes, which he took a swig of before answering, "Just the usual, Hawke. You know, how you defeated an ogre single-handed and rode a dragon out of Ferelden. That sort of thing."

"And you call that 'embellishment'?" Brianna asked incredulously. When Varric merely smiled innocently in answer, she sighed. "You know what, never mind. I don't even want to know." She turned back to Isabela. "Sorry about that. It's nice to meet you."

Isabela grinned. "You too. And don't worry, they were very entertaining stories. Anyway, you should keep your wits about you here. You're nothing but tits and ass to the men in this place, and they won't hesitate to grab at both."

"I would imagine you're speaking from experience?" Brianna asked. She had experienced a few men trying to grope her before, but mostly the men in here gave her a wide berth, likely because she was usually accompanied by Varric and Bianca, and one or more sword-wielding men. Of course, it was equally likely it was due to the reputation Varric had apparently given her, as well.

Isabela chuckled. "After a few broken fingers here and there, they got the idea."

"Well, in their defense, most men don't have enough self-control to keep their hands off such exquisite examples of feminine beauty. A decent man, though, will wait until a lady gives him permission before he puts his hands anywhere." Though he had addressed them both, which had caused Brianna to grit her teeth at the flirtatious way he'd looked at Isabela, Mardin's gaze slid to hers at the end. He looked steadily at her with that heated, dark gaze she hadn't seen in a couple of weeks now. She'd actually begun to wonder if he'd given up on her, but perhaps he hadn't. Still, he was flirting with Isabela, too, she thought, frowning.

Who, it appeared, was only too happy to flirt back as she closed the last bit of distance between herself and Mardin, running her hand down his chest. "Well, handsome, you can put your hands anywhere you like, anytime you like."

Mardin smiled down at her. "I'll keep that in mind." He didn't move away from Isabela's hand, but neither did he move to touch her in return, which slightly mollified the alarming flare of anger Brianna had felt at seeing the other woman touch him. Looking mildly disappointed at the lack of return attention, Isabela removed her hand, turning back to Brianna.

"You probably already overheard, but I'm Isabela. Previously 'Captain' Isabela." She shrugged. "Sadly, without my ship, the title rings a bit hollow. You're Fereldan, aren't you?" Brianna nodded, slightly surprised that Isabela had known that as she went on, "You have that look about you. I was in Denerim a few years ago. You know, from your reputation, you might be just what I'm looking for to solve a little problem I have."

Brianna sighed. There was a surprisingly large part of her that wanted to say no, in spite of the fact that she was usually quite willing to help other people, but Varric was giving her a pleading look, and aside from the job today, she hadn't had many offers or much excitement lately. "I suppose we could help," she said at last, "but honestly, can't anyone fix their own lives around here?"

Isabela gave her a grin and a shrug. "Must be something in the water. Someone from my past has been pestering me. I've arranged for a duel tomorrow night – if I win, he leaves me alone. But I don't trust him to play fair. I need someone to watch my back, and from what I hear – and see," she nodded at Mardin, "you're all pretty good at that."

A duel? That wasn't their usual sort of job. Still, she'd agreed, and Brianna had to admit she was curious now, so she asked, "Who is this person you've arranged to duel?"

"His name is Hayder," Isabela explained. "I used to work with him in Antiva. He's never liked me. He's been asking about me all around Kirkwall. Thought I'd get it over with and meet him face-to-face."

Brianna nodded. "All right, I think I could manage watching your back."

Isabela chuckled again, giving Brianna a heated look that had her flushing with surprise again as the other woman drawled, "I'll bet. I've arranged to meet Hayder in Hightown after dark tomorrow night. I'll meet you there. Tonight I've got a few other things to take care of." With that, she sauntered towards the door.

Brianna watched her leave thoughtfully, sighing when she saw that Carver had turned and was staring after her. That was all she needed, for Carver to have another crush. Varric poked her brother in the side. "Come on, Junior, put your tongue back in your mouth and let's play some cards."

"I didn't – I wasn't –" Carver stammered, but when Fenris snorted in obvious disbelief, he gave up, sighing and following the smirking Varric and the others over to their regular table. Brianna followed once she'd placed her own order with Corff, the bartender, and told him to send it over to the table.

She was surprised to see Merrill already waiting for them at the table. The young elf leapt to her feet as they approached. "Oh, good, you're all here. I thought I'd come and see if I could play cards with all of you again. I – I know I'm not very good, but – "

"Don't worry, Daisy," Varric interrupted her gently. "You're always welcome."

"Of course you are," Brianna added, making an effort to smile at the other mage. She'd had a long and trying day, but she was developing a soft spot for Merrill, who was obviously very lonely. "It doesn't matter how good you are, you can always play with us. Sit down."

Merrill nodded and smiled shyly before turning to the others. "Hello, Fenris, Mardin. Carver, it's nice to see you again."

Fenris merely grunted, ignoring her as he slumped into a chair by Varric, while Mardin returned her greeting with one of his own. Carver, Brianna noticed wryly, blushed a little as he hurried to a chair next to the one Merrill was sitting back down in. "It's . . . nice to see you, too, Merrill. How . . . how was your day?"

Merrill beamed at him. "Oh, it was fascinating! I saw someone get mugged right outside my door today! So much happens here all at once, it's so exciting!"

"What? You saw someone get mugged?" Carver exclaimed, scowling. "They didn't – I mean, you're okay, aren't you?"

"Oh, of course I am," Merrill replied, nodding. "Though I'm a little disappointed no one has tried to mug me, yet. They must not like me."

"Merrill . . . that . . ." Carver looked at a loss for words now as he shook his head.

"Your poor brother," Mardin whispered in Brianna's ear as he pulled a chair out for her. Shameless flirt he might be, but Brianna had noticed that he was also a gentleman in his own way. He was constantly opening doors and pulling out chairs for her and helping her out whenever he could, and she was embarrassed to admit that she quite liked it. So, too, did she like the shivery sensation down her spine when she felt his breath on her ear like that. Yet he had just proved what she had always known about him; he would flirt with any woman that was his type, and Isabela, it appeared, was practically made for him.

He hadn't even turned her down when she'd offered to let him touch her, Brianna thought, disgruntled as she merely nodded in response to Mardin's words. She took the seat he offered as she did so, while he sat down next to her. _Why would he?_ a nasty little voice in her head taunted. _It's not like you've been paying him any attention, after all. And she's far prettier than you._

It was true she'd avoided responding to his offers in any way, Brianna admitted to herself, nor had she even attempted to flirt with him over the last couple of weeks. She hadn't been able to figure out yet how she wanted to respond, or even _if_ she wanted to respond. She had thought she would wait until she found out what he was hiding, and then decide, but now she knew everything, and she still had no idea if being with him was a good idea or not. She wanted him, she knew that much, and yet what would she get out of it? A few nights in bed with him before the inevitable heartbreak? Did she even have it in her to have a casual fling? She didn't know, and she didn't know if he was capable of anything besides that. All she did know was that it had irritated her more than she'd expected to finally see him flirt with another woman. Was she - could she be - jealous? Maker, she was tired of thinking, she decided, shaking her head abruptly. She'd had far too much to think about today.

So when Norah, the waitress, set down her first drink, she downed it all in one go, ignoring the bickering between Fenris and Varric in the background as the dwarf dealt out the cards. She handed the mug back to the surprised Norah and told her to keep them coming. She'd had a _very_ long day, and she deserved to stop thinking and being responsible for at least one night, she decided.

"Maker, Bree, are you sure that's a good idea? What would Mother say?" Carver demanded as Norah headed back to the bar after taking everyone else's orders.

"I said I was going to have a lot of drinks, and I meant it," she told him evenly. "I've had a long day, and I need to relax."

"Are you all right?" Mardin asked her quietly as Carver frowned briefly at her before turning to respond to something Merrill had said.

"I'm fine," she hissed back at him. "Can't I drink for once without everyone making a big deal out of it?"

He held up his hands in defense. "If you're sure, I won't say anything more about it."

"I'm sure." She picked up the cards Varric had passed to her, making a great show of studying them and ignoring the look Mardin was giving her. He sighed before picking up his own cards, and true to his word, didn't say anything more about it as she downed drink after drink.

Which was how, several mugs and sometime later, Brianna found herself sliding sideways off her uncomfortably hard chair as the room tilted and spun dizzily around her. Her downward progress was halted by a strong arm, which easily lifted her back up and set her down on her feet. "I think it's time you go home, Brianna."

She looked up at Mardin, blinking as his face seemed to blur outwards into two – or three? – faces, and nodded, instantly regretting the motion when everything spun around her again. "Yes, might be . . . a good idea." She took a step and felt herself wobbling, his hands coming to her waist to steady her.

"I'll walk you home," he told her so firmly that she didn't even think to argue.

She noticed a rather blurry Carver appear next to him. "I can take her home."

"No, you should take Merrill home." Mardin gestured, and Brianna carefully turned her head where he was pointing, dimly seeing the elven mage heading towards the door. "Remember what she said about muggings?"

"Oh, yes, good point." Carver nodded. "You know which way you're going?"

"I remember." Mardin waved him towards the door. "Hurry up, before she leaves, and try to at least compliment her this time, would you?"

"Uh . . . right." Brianna giggled as she watched several versions of her brother race to the door, opening it for Merrill.

"Come on." Mardin gently steered her towards the door after them, and she followed, carefully putting one foot in front of the other, thinking about how good his big, warm hands felt on her waist.

"Did I win?" she asked him. She couldn't remember, but surely she must have; she was usually quite good at Wicked Grace.

"No, not even a little bit," he said, sounding amused. "Varric won most of the games, Fenris won two and I won the last game."

"Oh." It was really dark out, she thought, tilting her head back to look at the sky as they stepped outside. Where were all the stars? "The stars are gone."

"It's just cloudy, Brianna."

"I knew that." She looked at the street ahead of her, trying to ignore the way it kept spinning around her and tilting. When she stumbled a second time – where had that crate come from, anyway? – she felt herself being lifted off the ground and cradled against a hard, warm chest. "I can walk . . . I think."

She looked up, but she couldn't make out much of his face except a white flash of teeth as he smiled. "You really can't."

"Okay." She wasn't going to protest. It felt really nice right here. Why hadn't she let him do this before? Why hadn't she let him kiss her before, for that matter? She couldn't remember any of her reasons. "Mardin?"

"Yes, Brianna?" he asked patiently.

"What if . . . I said . . ." What was she going to say? How had that woman put it? "You can put your hands anywhere?"

She heard a sharp intake of breath, and those arms clutched her a little tighter. "Don't tempt me like that."

"Why not?" She tried to see his face again, but it was all shadowy and blurry. "You still want to, right?"

"You have _no_ idea." He cleared his throat. "But . . . I want you to remember every second of our first time together in bed, and to remember it without regretting it. I . . . want you to say that when you know what it is you're saying, and what you really want."

"I do." She did, didn't she? She – what had she said again? Everything was spinning so hard around her, she couldn't seem to focus anymore. She remembered very little after that except the sound of hushed voices talking above her head, someone gently laying her in bed, and the searing hot feel of lips brushing her forehead before she fell asleep.

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"Ow." The first thought Brianna had upon waking was how much her head hurt. It was throbbing so badly she couldn't focus on anything beyond the pain and how dry her mouth felt. She slowly sat up on the hard, lumpy bottom bunk bed in the room she and Carver shared in Uncle Gamlen's house, just as a booming knock sounded at the closed door. "Not so loud," she hissed as she clutched at her head.

"Hawke?" The door creaked slowly open, the sound screeching through her head, and she squinted at the brightness of the light coming from the other room as Anders peeked around the edge of the door.

"Anders, my head, please," she begged him, not even questioning why he was here right now. She couldn't think straight enough to perform a healing spell on herself at the moment, and besides, he'd be better at it, anyway.

"Of course." The mage crossed to her bedside in two steps, as the room was so small, and laid a glowing blue hand upon her head. The soothing, familiar warmth of a healing spell spread through her throbbing skull, dissipating the pain and clearing her thoughts rapidly. As soon as he was done, Anders moved to the small table at the side of the room, pouring some water from the jug there into the cracked cup and handing it to her.

She drank gratefully, as the healing spell had done nothing for the dryness of her mouth. Only when the cup was empty did she finally ask, "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the clinic?"

Anders grinned. "Mardin stopped by the clinic this morning. Said you'd drank enough at the Hanged Man last night that you might not be able to heal yourself this morning. It seems he was right."

Brianna frowned, trying to remember what had happened last night after she'd started drinking. Only bits and pieces came to her, most of it just a fuzzy blank. Had he carried her home? What had she said to him? Something embarrassing, no doubt, but she couldn't quite recall. "Thank you, Anders, I appreciate it," she said after a moment. "Is . . . Mardin here?"

Anders shook his head. "No, he and Carver have left already to train, your mother said. This was the soonest I could get away from the clinic. But you're welcome, Hawke. You've helped me out at the clinic so much these past two weeks, it's the least I can do to return the favour."

"Your teaching is more than enough payment for whatever little help I've been," Brianna said dismissively, waving her hand at him as she got out of the bed and crossed over to the water jug again. She was grateful that she'd been put to bed in her robes; they might be a bit crumpled, but at least she was fully dressed right now. "Say, Anders, since you're here, can I ask you something?"

"Certainly, Hawke." He leaned against the wall, looking as if he didn't know where to sit in the tiny room, or if he could sit, and looked up at her expectantly.

"Mardin . . . finally told us the truth yesterday," she said at last, filling her cup up again. "I guess what I wanted to know is . . . do you really believe him? And his sister, I guess? About . . . other worlds?"

Anders studied her for a moment, his arms crossed over his chest before he nodded. "I do. I'll admit it was a bit much at first, but it explained a lot about Ayla. And . . . well, you've met Flemeth, right?" When Brianna nodded, Anders went on, "So did the Commander, during the Blight, right after he found Ayla. Flemeth said something about Ayla not belonging, and apparently Flemeth knew about the existence of other worlds, too, according to the Commander. And didn't you say that Flemeth had said something similar about Mardin, when you all met her up on Sundermount? Or do you not believe her – or Mardin?"

Brianna sighed, sinking back down on her bed. "No, I do. It does make sense, and I've always been able to tell when he was lying to me before, and I know he wasn't yesterday. It's just . . . an awful lot to take in. I mean, other _worlds_? And people being sent here from other worlds because of some dark destiny? Don't you find it . . . terrifying?"

"Actually, no. Once I accepted the idea, I found it quite comforting," Anders replied, smiling.

"Comforting?" Brianna raised her eyebrows. How could he possibly find the idea of a vast universe full of other worlds and dark destinies _comforting_?

"Well, think about it. If there are other worlds, that means there are worlds where mages aren't persecuted for their magic. Ayla told me that in her world, the mages lead themselves. They have their own order, and they're respected as soldiers and healers. And there are even other worlds where there are no mages at all, where everybody is the same." Anders shrugged. "I mean, I know that I'm probably never going to see these places, but at least I know there are worlds out there where mages aren't locked up or hated. It's comforting in its own way."

"I . . . suppose. I never really thought of it that way." To lead herself? To be respected for her magical abilities? That did sound really nice, Brianna admitted. But . . . "What about Mardin being sent here, like his sister, to help with some sort of darkness? I mean, the Blight is over, so what could happen here that's so big that we need help from another world? Doesn't that scare you?"

"Well, yes, in a way, it does. It probably has something to do with the way mages are treated in the Circle here." Anders scowled, his fists clenching.

Brianna nodded, making a non-committal noise of agreement. There was no need to say anything else about the mages in Kirkwall; it would only rile up Anders more. It could just as easily be the Qunari, anyway, she thought, remembering what Mardin had said about them spoiling for blood. She shuddered at the thought, not wanting to see what the Arishok would look like when he was truly mad. "Whatever it turns out to be," she said softly, "the thought that he's here to help me – which he thinks he is – is frightening. And Flemeth seems to think I have some big destiny. I'm just a Fereldan apostate, Anders. What am I supposed to do?"

"Well, you could be looking at that the wrong way, too." Anders grinned when she stared at him doubtfully. "You're thinking of the fact that he's here to help you as frightening, when you could think of the fact that you've been sent extra help you weren't supposed to have as a good thing. And it means that there's obviously a higher power up there – the Maker, or the Goddess, as those two call it – that wants to help, that still cares about us."

Brianna blinked, thinking it over. She'd never been really devout in her beliefs, but she had always believed that there was a Maker, that there was no way that everything that existed in Thedas could have happened by accident. And Anders was right; if Mardin and his sister had been sent here from another world, if Flemeth could really see the future, that kind of incredible power had to come from somewhere. It had to be the Maker, trying to help. She nodded slowly. "You're right. If I think about it that way – it's not nearly so frightening. Thank you, Anders. That . . . makes things a little easier."

He smiled at her. "You're welcome, Hawke. And besides, Fereldan apostate or not, you always get the job done. And you're not alone. We're all here to help you, you know. Now, do you have a job you need to get to, or would you like to train today?"

"I'll check my mail, but I don't think I have anything until tonight," she answered. "So, yes, if you've got a few minutes to wait while I freshen up and get some breakfast, I'd love to train some more."

"Of course. I'll just wait out there for you." Anders slipped out the door of her tiny room, closing it behind him and leaving her alone to tidy herself up. She did feel a good deal better than she had last night before she'd started drinking, terrified of the thought of her future. He was right; she wasn't alone. She had her brother and the friends she'd made here. As for what to do about her attraction to Mardin, she'd simply have to figure that out later. It wasn't like he was going anywhere anytime soon, by the sounds of it.

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Not long after the sun had set later that night, Brianna led Varric, Fenris, Carver, Merrill and Mardin to Hightown to meet Isabela. She had debated about whether to bring all of them along, but given what Isabela had said about not trusting this Hayder man, and the type of trouble she'd already landed herself in the night before, Brianna had thought it best to have them all there. Besides, it was probably time that she started to teach Merrill how to fight in a group setting.

She'd been a bit wary of seeing Mardin again after last night, but he hadn't mentioned anything about what she might have said last night when he'd seen her. And he'd accepted her thanks over sending Anders to her for healing quite graciously. Still, he'd given her such a heated, intense look when he'd first spotted her that she'd nearly gasped with the sudden desire that went racing through her veins at the look. She _must_ have said or done something last night to warrant that look; she wished she could remember what it was. Well, she'd worry about that after this job was done, she decided. Until it was, she needed to focus.

Hightown was a dark, gloomy place at night, especially as it was both cloudy and foggy tonight, obscuring the stars and the moon from view. There were still some lanterns lit here and there to provide some light, but that only seemed to make the shadows deeper as they moved through the marble streets. Brianna sighed in relief when she finally spotted Isabela's white tunic ahead of them, in the courtyard below the stairs leading up to the Viscount's Keep.

"There you are," Isabela hissed, packing back and forth as they approached her. "I've been here for hours. Hayder hasn't shown up. No one has. I don't like this."

"'I don't like this?'" Varric echoed incredulously. "That's right up there with, 'What could possibly go wrong?'"

"Or 'it's a little too quiet'," Brianna added, rolling her eyes. She just knew this job was going to go wrong, even though Mardin had said Isabela didn't wish them harm. That didn't mean the pirate wasn't going to attract a whole bunch of people who did.

As if to confirm her thoughts, she heard Mardin sniff as if scenting the air behind her, before he murmured, "We've got some company."

An armed blonde woman came running out from the shadows to the left of the stairs only a few seconds later, just as Brianna was reaching for her staff. As soon as the woman spotted Isabela, she shouted, "That's the wench we're looking for. Gut her!"

Isabela drew her daggers as the woman raced towards her, and six more people emerged from the shadows behind the woman. Brianna sent a sizable fireball their way, scattering them apart before the others had a chance to reach them, and Merrill sent an arcane blast at one of the fighters before they could get up. One of Bianca's bolts pierced another before he'd even stood up, and by then, Mardin, Fenris and Carver had reached the remaining men. The fight was over fairly quickly after that, Isabela proving herself to be as useful with her daggers as she was in a bar fight.

"Hayder sent them," Isabela snapped once the last body had fallen. "Search the bodies, I need to find out where he is."

When the others briefly glanced at her, Brianna just nodded before she moved forward to help; she'd fully intended to search the bodies for money or items anyway. She still needed everything she could get to support her family and the expedition, after all.

It was Varric who found the letter. "This is probably it," he told Isabela, handing her a rumpled bit of parchment.

Isabela scanned it quickly before crumpling it in her fist. "Hiding in the Chantry and sending thugs to finish me off? Coward. He'll not get away with this. Come on." She turned and ran in the direction of the Chantry without even checking to see if they were following.

When the others turned to look at her again, Brianna sighed. "I suppose we'd better follow so she doesn't get herself killed. Come on."

They all ran after Isabela through the shadowy streets; it was fortunate they had, for the pirate was ambushed in the Chantry courtyard by several more fighters just as they reached her. Brianna was relieved that she'd decided to bring so many of her friends along, as it made what would otherwise have been a tough battle relatively simple. As soon as the last fighter was down again, Isabela raced up the Chantry stairs beyond him, Brianna and the others following once more.

Isabela shoved one of the double doors open as she reached it, and Mardin caught it before it swung shut again, gesturing to the others to follow her in. Brianna caught up to Isabela just as she halted in the main chamber of the Chantry across from a man with long brown hair pulled back in a low ponytail, armed with a sword and wearing heavy, dark leathers. "Isabela," the man, presumably Hayder, sneered. "Should've known you'd find me here."

Brianna glanced around the room behind Hayder, noting that there were several more of his shady-looking followers ranged on the steps and standing behind him. Mardin soon caught up to her, planting himself directly in front of her, making her smile slightly in spite of herself as the others gathered around them.

"Tell your men to burn the letters next time," Isabela retorted.

"Castillon was heartbroken when he heard about the shipwreck," Hayder answered, ignoring Isabela's jab about the letter. "You should've let him know you survived."

"It must have slipped my mind," Isabela said airily, shrugging.

Hayder chuckled dryly before his eyes narrowed. "Where's the relic?"

"I lost it. Castillon's just going to have to do without," Isabela said simply.

"Lost it?" Hayder echoed incredulously. "Just like you 'lost' a ship full of valuable cargo?"

"They weren't cargo, Hayder, they were people!" Isabela exclaimed, throwing her hands up, and Brianna suddenly gained a new respect for the woman. Troublesome pirate she might be, but it appeared even she had a code of honor – and Hayder did not.

"Those slaves were worth a hundred sovereigns a head, and you let them scurry off into the wilds," Hayder snarled at Isabela. "And now the relic's gone, too. Castillon won't be happy to hear that, I promise you." He gestured with his hand, and the people that Brianna had noticed earlier raised their bows or drew their swords.

Brianna reached for her staff as she met Hayder's eyes, glaring at him. "Castillon isn't a very happy person, is he? Maybe he needs a new hobby besides enslaving people."

"There's only one way to settle this," Isabela added, drawing a dagger that she threw abruptly and unerringly into the chest of a female fighter standing to Hayder's right. The woman went down instantly, and with a snarl and another gesture, Hayder sent his fighters at Brianna's party as he raced forward to fight Isabela.

Brianna aimed a lightning blast at one of the archers first, shouting to Merrill to do the same, as Varric fired a bolt at the third. In a burst of glowing lyrium, Fenris blasted through two fighters on his way up the stairs to the left, while Carver went up the stairs to the right. Mardin stayed where he was, running through a fighter that had been to Hayder's left, before moving onto another warrior that had been running at Merrill. Between the six of them, they had dispatched all of Hayder's fighters by the time Isabela stabbed Hayder in the back and then slit his throat. The man dropped to the ground in a spray of blood, and Isabela bent to rifle through his pockets.

Once Brianna and the others had done the same, she approached Isabela, who straightened up and eyed her warily. "Not that I object to killing slavers," Brianna began, "but that was a bit 'stab first, ask questions later', wasn't it?"

Isabela shook her head. "Trust me, it's better this way. Castillon won't hear about me from Hayder, but he'll find me eventually. I just have to get him the relic. It's simple as that."

"So, who is this Castillon, anyway?" Brianna asked. She knew her curiosity was going to get her in trouble one day, but after hearing that Isabela had gotten into this mess to free some slaves, she couldn't stop herself from wanting to help the woman some more, troublesome pirate or no.

Isabela hesitated, studying her before she slowly said, "He's . . . a powerful merchant based in Antiva. I believe he has ties to the Felicisima Armada. I used to work for him. The jobs mostly involved smuggling lyrium, jewels, or the occasional criminal acquaintance. He paid well."

Brianna nodded. It sounded rather like what she'd done for Athenril, except for the part about the slaves. "And then you freed some slaves?" she prompted.

Isabela nodded, explaining, "I was asked to escort Castillon's cargo ship. I got a bad feeling about the job partway through. Boarded the ship to find slaves. Nearly two hundred – elves, humans . . . children even." Brianna heard a sound behind her that sounded distinctly like Fenris snarling, but she didn't turn to look, knowing that the story was probably hitting close to home for him as Isabela continued, "It was sickening. They paid Castillon to take them away from the Blight. He took their money and sold them into slavery. Even I can see that's wrong."

"You did the right thing," Brianna told her sincerely, and was surprised that Isabela looked actually embarrassed as she waved her off. Sensing that she was uncomfortable, Brianna decided to change the subject. "What's so interesting about this relic, that he'd pay so many people to come after you for it?"

"I don't really know what it is, except that it's ancient and worth my weight in gold. Castillon has me chasing it down as payback for freeing his slaves." Isabela sighed. "To be honest, I think he just wants me dead. But that would be letting me off easy."

Brianna looked over at Mardin, silently asking his opinion. He was frowning slightly as he studied Isabela, but when their eyes met, he nodded. "If getting the relic gets Castillon off your back, then I'll help you retrieve it," Brianna told the pirate.

Isabela looked briefly surprised, but she nodded. "I still don't know where it is, but you'll be the first to know if I hear anything. Anyway, thanks for helping me out with Hayder. If you need help with any of your problems, I could always tag along. There might be something I could do for you. If you need my help, or any . . . company," she glanced back and forth between Mardin and Brianna, giving them equally heated looks, "I have a room at the Hanged Man. Either one of you. Or better yet, both."

Brianna felt her jaw drop as her face turned bright red. _Both_ of them? Did the pirate mean what she thought she did? "No – no thank you," she managed as she heard Varric chuckle behind her. "I . . . um, don't need any company."

Isabela shrugged. "That's too bad. What about you, sweet thing?" She ran her hand down Mardin's chest again.

_He_ didn't look one bit embarrassed – or offended, Brianna noted sourly as he smiled at the pirate. "I thank you for the generous offer. I will certainly . . . consider it."

Brianna clutched her staff tightly, feeling unreasonably angry, but before she could say anything, Varric chose to interrupt. "Say, if you're heading back to the Hanged Man anyway, why don't you join us for a game of cards? We usually end most nights with a bit of Wicked Grace."

Isabela stepped away from Mardin, studying Varric for a moment before she smiled. "Why not?" She jingled the pouch hanging from her belt. "I've got a bit of extra coin, now."

Brianna sighed, strapping her staff to her back as she tried to calm down and remind herself that, though Mardin hadn't said no, neither had he said yes. And he was looking at her now, his gaze thoughtful as she waved to the others to leave the Chantry. Perhaps she didn't need to be as jealous as she thought she did. As they made their way to the doors, she asked Varric softly as she gestured at the bodies behind them, "Varric, do you think you can -?"

"Send somebody to let Aveline and her guards know about the mess we made?" Varric finished for her. "Consider it done, Hawke."

"Thank you, Varric," she smiled at him.

"Anytime."

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The walk back to the Hanged Man was uneventful and mostly silent, though Merrill peppered Isabela with endless questions which the pirate answered with surprising gentleness and patience. Brianna thought that she would quite like the pirate if it wasn't for her flirting. Maybe, she thought, it was time she started doing some flirting of her own with Mardin. She would just have to think of a place to start; she wasn't all that good at it.

It didn't take long before they'd reached the Hanged Man and were all seated around their table again, Varric dealing out the cards. Brianna was a bit distracted, as she was both trying to concentrate on her hand and think about what to do with Mardin, so she wasn't really listening to the conversations around her until she heard Isabela say, "Is your hair red like that _all_ over?"

She glanced up sharply, looking at the pirate, who was sitting across from Mardin, grinning wickedly over her cards. Mardin, who was sitting on Brianna's left, simply raised an eyebrow at Isabela, saying mildly, "Maybe it is. Do you want to see for yourself?"

Isabela's grin only got wider. "You bet I do."

"It's actually a few shades darker," Brianna blurted out before she had time to think better of it. She immediately gave herself a swift mental kick as Carver choked on his drink, Mardin laughed, and Varric snapped his gaze from Fenris, who he'd been arguing with as usual, to her, grinning broadly.

"Well, well, Hawke, who would've thought?" the dwarf drawled. "When did this happen?"

Brianna fervently wished for the power to suddenly sink into her chair as both Varric and Isabela leaned forward, looking equally interested in her answer. "It's not what you think! It was an accident!" she protested.

"Oh," Isabela nodded wisely, "that actually happened to me once. I tripped and – well, I guess it wasn't so much an accident as it was on purpose, but I landed on his – "

"That's not what I meant either!" Brianna cried, sure her face was bright red by this point as Carver's coughing fit got worse and Merrill rubbed his back in concern. Even Fenris was starting to turn a bit red at this point as Varric's grin got wider and Mardin only laughed harder. Damn him, he wasn't even trying to help her explain! "I went to the mansion to ask for help, and he answered the door naked! Nothing else happened!" she finished in a rush, determined to explain herself properly before anyone else interrupted.

"Ooh, you answer the door naked? Where do you live?" Isabela asked eagerly, turning her attention to Mardin now.

"Do _not_ tell her," Fenris ordered Mardin sternly.

"Say, Broody," Varric began, "if Red's in the habit of answering the door naked and you two room together, does that mean you've seen him naked too?" The broad grin had not left his face, though he'd gotten his journal out and was writing again.

Fenris didn't bother to answer, but the growing blush on his face was answer enough, Brianna realized, relieved that attention had been deflected from her. Of course, _now_ Mardin decided to explain things as he said, "To be fair, I don't answer the door naked. Brianna just walked in and I came out of my room to investigate. That's all."

"Wait, you two live together?" Isabela demanded, and Mardin nodded. The pirate turned to Fenris. "Do _you_ walk around naked, too?"

"No," the elf said shortly.

"Too late, I'm already imagining it." Isabela closed her eyes briefly, and Brianna couldn't help suddenly remembering just what Mardin had looked like naked, flushing all over again at the thought. The pirate's eyes flew open suddenly and she looked at Fenris again, asking slyly, "Just how far do those markings go, anyway?"

"That is none of your business," Fenris managed, turning red again.

"Oh, I missed something dirty again, didn't I?" Merrill sighed, looking around the table. She had apparently started paying attention again now that Carver was breathing normally.

"You did, Daisy, but don't worry about it," Varric told her soothingly.

"If everybody's quite done now," Carver said dryly, "could we get back to playing cards?"

"Spoilsport," Isabela grumbled, but she turned her attention back to her cards readily enough, as did everyone else. The game, as usual, was won by Varric, and Brianna noticed that Isabela turned a sharp and considering glance on him at the end.

The conversation was uneventful for the most part after that, though Isabela still tossed out a few flirting comments to both Mardin and Fenris, causing the elf to leave after a couple of games, as he obviously didn't know what to do with such comments. The games themselves, however, quickly turned into a battle between Varric and Isabela, as first one of them won, then the other. After a couple of more games, everyone else dropped out, quickly realizing that it was turning into a cheating battle between two rogues. Carver offered to walk Merrill home, and she agreed, flushing prettily as the two walked out of the tavern.

"Would . . . you mind walking me home?" Brianna asked Mardin softly as the two rogues started another card game, staring each other down with hard-eyed concentration as she and Mardin left the table.

"Of course I wouldn't mind," he answered gently, and she gave him a relieved smile as they headed towards the door.

"Good. I . . . wanted to talk to you in private," she admitted just as they reached the door, and he held it open for her. Isabela's flirting with Mardin was already driving her insane, which had become obvious when she'd blurted such an embarrassing statement out without even thinking, and she clearly needed to do something about it. Perhaps acting on her feelings for him might help in some way, and if not, well, at least she'd be able to see him naked on purpose, and not by accident. Her pulse sped up at the thought.

She didn't know what to say, though, or how to bring it up. Was she just supposed to ask? And if so, how was she to go about it? So they walked along the streets of Lowtown in silence for a few moments before he said, "What was it you wanted to talk about?"

She stopped, trying to gather her thoughts, and he stopped with her. Fortunately, there was no one else around this late at night, so they had the narrow street all to themselves as she finally blurted out, "Do you think Isabela's prettier than me?" _Why did I even ask that?! That wasn't what I wanted to ask!_ After all, she knew the pirate was prettier than her; she didn't need to hear Mardin say so. And why did she even care, anyway? She was still pretty; she wasn't vain about it, but men had told her so often enough that she accepted it as fact. It wasn't like it was a competition, but the pirate's ample curves and obvious beauty were a bit deflating to her overall confidence.

Mardin frowned at her; they were standing beneath one of the few lanterns in Lowtown, so she could actually see his face. "Why would you ask that?" he demanded.

"Because you didn't say no to her when she offered you company," Brianna retorted. _Maker's breath! Why do I keep saying things that make me sound like a jealous ninny? That's really going to help!_

"I didn't say yes, either," he pointed out, but when she only scowled at him, not knowing what else to say, he started to smile. "Are you jealous?"

She opened her mouth to deny it, but what was the point? She'd made it perfectly obvious she _was_. "Yes, I am," she admitted with a sigh, "because she's obviously more your type than I am."

"Oh, I completely disagree," he told her, slowly starting towards her. She started backing towards the wall of the nearby building, unsure why she suddenly felt so nervous. "I think you're much more my type."

"But, why?" she demanded. "She's more forward like you, and she's got –" _bigger breasts_ \- "better . . . curves than I do. She's still your feisty, recklessly brave type, and she's gorgeous."

"She is," he agreed, nodding, "but so are you. And she might have more . . . pronounced cleavage, but that doesn't mean anything. Besides, I find I much prefer staring at your rather magnificent buttocks over hers." She should be offended, Brianna thought faintly, but for some reason, she found his remark about her ass arousing instead.

He breathed in deeply as she hit the wall and he braced his arms on either side of her, boxing her in, his body only a few inches away, though he didn't close the distance. "Besides, you smell _so_ much better."

"It's just soap," she answered breathlessly. "If I gave it to her, she'd smell the same."

"It's not just soap." His voice was low and gravelly now, sending tingles chasing each other up and down her spine. "Do you remember that I said one of my shifter abilities is enhanced smell?"

She nodded dazedly, wondering where he was going with this as he continued, "When I smell you, it's not just the soap I smell, though that's quite good also. When you get aroused, like you are right now," he breathed by her ear, and she shuddered, "I can smell that, too. And oh, _Goddess_ , I've never smelt anything so intoxicating before. I am _aching_ to find out if the taste of you matches that smell."

Her blood was liquid fire right now from his words and his nearness, but what did he mean by taste? He couldn't – did people actually do that?! Neither one of her previous lovers had ever even _tried_ that! "I – what do you mean by taste?" she asked softly, proud that her voice only trembled slightly.

His eyebrows shot up. "You _have_ mated before, haven't you?" She nodded, and he frowned. "But none of your lovers ever tasted your arousal, the very core of you?" She shook her head, unable even to find words at the moment, and he scowled, shaking his head in turn. "They didn't know what they were missing." She noticed suddenly that his arms were trembling, as if from the effort of not touching her, as he went on, "I would worship you properly, drink from you until you screamed –"

_Oh Maker_. She couldn't take it any longer. She grabbed his head in her hands and pulled his mouth down to hers. As soon as their lips touched, it was like she'd broken a dam in him. He surged forward, one hand tangling in her hair, the other gripping the curve of her ass tightly as he pressed his body hard against hers, pinning her to the wall as his tongue parted her lips, sweeping into her mouth.

She moaned softly, winding her arms tightly around his neck, arching against that fantastic body of his, wrapping her legs around his waist, feeling the hard press of his cock where she ached for it the most. She rubbed against him, her body throbbing for him as she gloried in the roughness of his kiss. No man had ever kissed her so roughly before, or pushed her up against a wall, and if he'd asked before, she would have said she didn't want him to. Now, however, she was realizing that she wanted this more than anything, that she was revelling in the savagery of his kiss and how badly he wanted her. She gave into the urge she'd had from the moment she'd seen him, and sunk her teeth into that full bottom lip of his.

He growled harshly, the sound vibrating through her whole body as his hips snapped against hers. His hand was still kneading at the curve of her buttocks, but now it slid down and forward, his long fingers slipping between her legs and playing against the fabric of her breeches, even as his hips pushed against her from the front. She gasped into his mouth at the sensation, rocking against his fingers. His mouth finally broke free from hers, and they both panted for breath as his fingers pressed against her core. Maker, had she thought she knew what she was doing? She was a novice in the skilled hands of an expert, and he was setting her afire with ease in the middle of the street.

It was that last thought that doused through her passion-fogged brain like cold water. She gasped as she realized what they were doing in the middle of a street in Lowtown, of all places! What would her mother think? No, this was too much, too soon. She simply couldn't deal with the intensity of what he made her feel right now. She pushed against his chest, trying to squirm out of his grasp. "No, I can't," she exclaimed breathlessly, the words all she could manage in her addled state.

He froze, but when she pushed again, he slowly and carefully set her down, that sinfully tempting hand disappearing from between her legs. He took a deep breath, and she could see the fine tremors in his muscles again as his fists clenched together. "You what?" he asked at last, his voice rough.

"I can't," she repeated. "I can't do this." His eyes were blazing with heat, blue like the center of a flame now, and part of her wanted so desperately to throw herself back in his arms, but the other part of her was too terrified of the way he made her feel, the way he brought her so out of control. She was a mage, she couldn't _be_ out of control. So she fled, before she gave in to temptation, and heard him curse loudly behind her back before he stalked away. She glanced over her shoulder once as she fled, to see that he was heading back to the Hanged Man. She kept going to the relative safety of Gamlen's house, hoping she would be able to think straight at some point soon, when her blood finally cooled, and would know what to do.

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"Sure you don't want to go for round two?" Isabela asked as they stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

Mardin shook his head as he looked down at her. He'd returned to the Hanged Man after Brianna had so abruptly rejected him, asking for the strongest alcohol that Corff possessed. The stuff had tasted vile, but he'd taken the bottle and begun drinking it quite rapidly anyway, wanting to forget what had just happened.

He had realized, when he was standing there in the midst of the street, aroused and frustrated, that no woman had ever truly rejected him before. And certainly, no woman had ever done so in the midst of a passionate embrace. He _knew_ that Brianna had wanted him, had been enjoying herself; the smell of her arousal had never been so intense. Yet she'd stopped him and fled as though she were terrified. What had he done to cause it? Had he repulsed or disgusted her somehow? The swirling thoughts had tormented him, so he'd drowned them along with the surprising shaft of hurt piercing his body with the strong alcohol, drinking it as rapidly as he could manage.

He'd nearly reached the bottom of the bottle when Isabela had come upon him at the bar when she came to order her own drink, and she'd made her offer again. This time, he'd taken her up on it; why shouldn't he, after all? He was incredibly frustrated, and Brianna had made it clear she didn't want him touching her anymore, while Isabela was making it equally clear that she did. So he'd followed her up to her room.

Though the experience had been enjoyable enough, he'd realized shortly after he'd spent himself in her arms that though it had been pleasant, even his climax with Isabela had paled in comparison to that incredibly, unbelievably fiery and passionate kiss he'd shared with Brianna in the street. He didn't understand why his desire was so much more pronounced with Brianna, or why her smell was so much more intoxicating to him than Isabela's spicy, exotic scent, but now that his shifter metabolism had burned through the alcohol and sobered him up, he decided he didn't want to give up on trying with Brianna just yet. He would simply have to find out what had made her flee from him, and if she would be willing to give him another chance.

With that in mind, he'd taken his leave of Isabela, and she'd followed him down to the bottom of the stairs in the main room of the tavern to say goodbye. "Thank you, but no," he told Isabela with a smile. "I should really be going now."

Isabela shrugged. "Suit yourself," she told him. "You know where to find me if you want a repeat performance." So saying, she gave him a quick kiss before she headed up the stairs.

Mardin turned to go towards the door, only to see Brianna just inside of it, staring at him. "Brianna, I -"

"Don't even bother," she said coldly, slamming the door of the tavern behind her as she fled from him again.

Mardin let out a series of inventive curses for the second time that night, slamming his fist against the wall of the stairs, which caused a crack to run up the plaster. Judging by the hurt he'd seen buried beneath the anger in her eyes, he'd likely just ruined any chance he'd had of convincing her to try again.


	8. Wayward Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mardin gets some advice from Isabela about how to make things up to Hawke. Merrill asks for Brianna and Carver's help in finding the apostate son of an elven woman in the Alienage, which turns out to be more complicated than Brianna was expecting.

Chapter Eight: Wayward Son

Almost before Mardin had finished the string of curses he'd unleashed upon seeing Brianna's angry, hurt gaze, shaking his now-aching hand, he heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. He glanced up to see Isabela trotting down the stairs again. She frowned briefly at him, studying the large crack snaking up the wall next to the stairs. "I told you if you wanted another round, all you had to do was ask. You didn't need to break the wall."

Mardin shook his head. "That wasn't what it was about." He saw the faintly wary look in her eyes now as they slid back to him. The Hanged Man might not be a grand place, but it was sturdily built, and Isabela was obviously observant enough to realize he'd done more damage than the average person could. Damn, but he needed to learn how to blend better. He'd never had to hide his abilities before; he'd always been able to own the fact that he was a shifter, because back home, everyone knew who he was, even if they hadn't met him before. He'd never realized until now just how much he counted on that innate knowledge.

Isabela planted a hand on her hip, the wary look now replaced by a challenging one. "So what was it about, then?"

Mardin sighed. He didn't really want to confide what had happened to anyone, but he didn't really understand just what he'd done wrong. It obviously had something to do with the fact that Brianna had seen him with Isabela; she'd confessed to being jealous of the pirate, but after so firmly rejecting his advances, why was she now upset that he'd gone elsewhere? He truly had no idea; no woman at home had ever cared when he'd moved on to another woman's bed. He clearly needed help understanding the intricacies of mating in this world, and Isabela was right here; he might as well confide in her. "Brianna saw us together just now, and she looked angry and . . . hurt. But I don't understand _why_."

Isabela's eyebrows shot up, and then she scowled. "I didn't realize I was trespassing, and it's not something I like to do."

_Trespassing? What does she mean by that . . . Oh_. Mardin shook his head as sudden understanding pierced him. "You weren't trespassing. It's true that we kissed -" well, it had been a bit more than that, but he wasn't sure how else to describe it, " - just before I came back here, but she rejected me. I believe her exact words were 'No, I can't,' before she pushed me away, and ran like . . . like I was a demon, or something. That's why I don't understand."

"'No, I can't?'" Isabela repeated. "You're sure it was that, and not 'No, I don't want to?'"

What did the words matter? Mardin wondered, irritated. No was still no. "Yes, I'm sure. Why does that matter?"

"Men," Isabela sighed, shaking her head. "Of course it matters. If she said she can't, not that she didn't want to, it means something else is stopping her, not the fact that she doesn't want you tossing her down on the nearest bed. Is she married, or something?"

"What?!" Mardin recoiled in surprise. Could he have tried to bed a woman already promised to a life-mate? Such a thing was very forbidden, and the mere thought appalled him. But no, surely Brianna or even Carver would have mentioned something before now if she were married. Wouldn't they? "I-I don't think so."

Isabela descended the last few stairs, passing him before pulling on his arm. "Come on, let's get a drink, and I'll see if I can help you figure out what you did wrong."

Mardin frowned, trailing after her. "What makes you think I did anything wrong?"

"Trust me, handsome, whatever happened, it's your fault somehow." Isabela tossed him a grin and a wink over her shoulder as she headed for one of the small, empty tables in the far corner, where they would have as much privacy as they could expect here. She sat down in a chair, signalling for a drink, and Mardin sat across from her. When the barmaid came, they both ordered drinks, though Mardin asked only for ale this time. He wasn't sure he could stomach any more of what Corff had previously given him.

When the barmaid had gone, he turned his attention back to Isabela. "So, do you know what happened? Because I certainly don't. I've never actually been turned down like that before," he admitted with a shrug.

Isabela grinned. "I'm sure you haven't." She studied him for another moment. "We haven't met before, have we?"

"No," he replied, surprised, but certain, because of course it was impossible. "Why do you ask?"

She waved a hand at him. "No reason, really. There was just something about you that seemed a little familiar. I'm sure I would have remembered if we had met before, though. So, walk me through what happened, and start at the beginning."

So he gave her the basics of what had occurred between himself and Brianna from the beginning, how he'd flirted with her from the start, but she had insisted on getting to know one another first, and how things had never actually gone further until tonight and her abrupt rejection of their embrace. He did not, however, go into any real detail about anything, and completely omitted the discussion they'd had about Isabela herself prior to the embrace, nor did he say just how intimate things had gotten before Brianna had stopped him. In all honesty, he had been completely lacking in control, and would never have been able to stop on his own, in spite of how open and exposed they would have been. Which was another thing that was unusual for him; though he didn't typically practice much restraint, he usually had enough control to at least move to a safer location. This time it hadn't even occurred to him, however. It must have been because it had been so long since he'd been with a woman, he decided.

When he'd finished, Isabela nodded. "I see. Well, Hawke is a mage, after all. You might have seemed like her own personal desire demon. Or it could be the Chantry girl coming out in her. Which is likely; a lot of Fereldans are stiff about having fun."

From what Mardin had managed to glean so far, he knew that the Chantry was the religious order of Thedas, but he didn't know much about their practices beyond their distaste for magic. "I don't understand; what does the Chantry have to do with this?"

Isabela looked a little taken aback. "You don't understand? Where exactly are you from, anyway?"

Damn. This was obviously another thing he was supposed to know, and Isabela didn't know who he really was. Nor was this the time to trust her with such information. "I'm from a small country, very far away, called Fallor," he explained, the lie rolling off his tongue much smoother than it had previously. "We don't follow the Chantry there, so I don't know much about it."

"Fallor, you say?" The barmaid arrived just then with their drinks, and after they'd paid, Isabela took a long pull from hers before setting it down on the table. "I've never heard of it, and I thought I'd sailed nearly everywhere by now."

"Well, it's quite a difficult place to get to," Mardin said with a shrug, hoping Isabela wouldn't dig further right now as he took a drink of his own ale. "Anyway, in Fallor, mating is much more casual than here, it seems. If you are attracted to someone when you meet, you simply ask if you can share their bed, and they say yes or no as they wish. Unless you take a mate for life, there is no offense in asking anyone, and no one objects to anyone moving on to another person. So since Brianna has said no, it means she doesn't want to share my bed, and she shouldn't be angry that I . . . moved on."

Isabela shook her head, looking at him in wonder. "First of all, you need to tell me how to get to this country of yours. It sounds like a blast!" She grinned broadly, and Mardin couldn't help but laugh. Isabela certainly would do well in Fallor, of that he had no doubt. If she ever managed to get there, of course, which was unlikely. "Secondly," she continued, "you definitely don't understand what things are like here." She then explained to him the Chantry's restrictions regarding mating, how it was viewed as a sin to engage in unless the couple was married, and how even someone who did not follow the Chantry's teachings closely might feel pressured to view it as a sin as well.

Mardin scowled. Here was another thing about this world that he did not like or agree with, particularly if it had caused Brianna to turn away from him when he had been so thoroughly enjoying the passion between them. "But mating is a natural thing. It's not something to be ashamed of, unless you're trying to engage in it with someone who is already promised to another."

Isabela nodded vigorously, patting him on the hand in sympathy. "I agree completely! It's one of the many things the Chantry is selling that I'm not buying. But I'm pretty sure it's the reason why Hawke pushed you away. It's the only thing that makes sense, anyway, especially if she was coming back to talk to you and then got mad at seeing us together. You see, most women here will get mad at you if you hop straight into another woman's bed after kissing them. I don't care, but Hawke obviously does, and you want to fix things with her, right?"

"I would like to, but I'm not sure how," Mardin admitted.

"Leave it to me," Isabela told him, taking another drink from her mug.

"Leave it to you?" he repeated skeptically, raising his eyebrows. He didn't know much about how things worked here, but even he doubted that having Isabela pleading his case was a good idea, when she was part of the reason Brianna was mad at him in the first place. "Are you sure that's such a good idea?"

"Trust me, handsome, some things can only be properly explained by another woman. Besides, you're the one she's really angry at. I'll give her a couple of days and then I'll convince her to give you another chance. I can be very persuasive." She gave him a distinctly wicked grin.

"If you say so," he said doubtfully. "What should I do?"

"For now, nothing," Isabela replied. "Give her some time to cool off before you talk to her. And when you do, you might need something else besides your looks and charm. You have plenty of both," she winked at him, "but I don't think that'll work on Hawke, especially after you screwed up already."

"So what else do I need to do, then?" In this area, Mardin had to admit he was completely lost. He knew precisely what to do with a woman in bed, but he'd never had to do anything besides ask to get a woman there.

Isabela shrugged. "You'll probably have to be romantic, which is something I can't help you with. You'll have to get somebody else for that. Are you sure you want to go to this much trouble, though? If all you're looking for is a tumble, my bed is always open."

He smiled at her. "And I do appreciate the offer, but I think I really do want another chance with Brianna. I'm not sure what it was, but there was something different about . . . kissing her, and I want to know what it was." Isabela nodded in understanding, looking almost sad, as it occurred to Mardin that perhaps Varric could help him get back in Brianna's good graces. The dwarf was close with Brianna, so he might be mad at Mardin at first, but Mardin hoped that once he explained that it was an honest mistake, and he truly hadn't meant to hurt Brianna, that Varric would understand and help him. The dwarf knew, after all, that he was from another world where things were quite different. "Why are you helping me, anyway?" he asked Isabela, suddenly curious. "Not that I'm not grateful, of course."

"Well," the pirate replied with a shrug, "if neither one of you is going to have fun with me, you should at least be having fun with each other. You're both too pretty to go to waste."

Mardin had to laugh at that. "Thank you, I suppose."

Isabela winked at him. "You're welcome, handsome. Now," she drained her mug, setting it down on the table, "I'm going to get some sleep, and you should too. In your own bed. I'll let you know when I've managed to talk to her."

"Of course," he nodded, finishing off his own drink before bidding Isabela goodbye and heading for the door. He would simply have to hope that Isabela could convince Brianna, and that Varric was willing to help him, for now that he had a taste of what being with his pretty mage could be like, he was more determined than ever not to give up.

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"Bree! I was hoping to find you here!" Carver skidded to a halt in front of Brianna, breathless and flushed, looking as though he'd run the whole way.

Brianna set down the bowl of herbs she'd been attempting to mix together to make a potion the way Anders had shown her, studying her brother with concern. "Carver, what happened? Is it Mother?"

"What? No, Mother's fine." Carver waved his hand impatiently. "It's Merrill. She sent word that someone in the alienage is in trouble, and I can't – that is, I, um, would like your help with it. Uh, please?"

Brianna stared at him in surprise. It was highly unusual for Carver to admit he needed her help, and the fact that he'd done so, however grudgingly, was definitely progress. Maybe Merrill was better for him than she ever could have realized. "Of course, Carver, I'll come right away." She looked over to where Anders was checking on the patient they'd worked on previously. "Anders, I need to leave now."

Anders looked over his shoulder at her, calling back, "Certainly, Hawke. Thank you for your help. Will you need me to come along?"

"I think we'll be okay, thank you," Brianna replied. "If I need you, I'll let you know."

Anders nodded, and Brianna brushed her hands off before following Carver out of the clinic. "So, just what has Merrill gotten herself into this time?" she asked as they began to make their way through Darktown.

Carver sighed. "I'm not entirely sure. She sent word to me while I was training, and well, you know Merrill. All the message basically said was there's an elven woman that's very sad, and she needs help, at least Merrill thinks she does, and couldn't we come and fix things for her, that is, if we're not too busy?"

Brianna laughed. The message did sound very much like Merrill. "Well, we aren't busy, so we might as well find out what it is she needs." There had been no jobs to speak of in the last two days since they'd recovered Saemus, and no matter what strange job Merrill had found or possibly imagined, it had to be better than mixing up potions.

"Well, thank you," Carver said after a moment. "I . . . uh, appreciate it."

"Of course, Carver, it's not a problem," Brianna replied gently. Anything you need, Carver, you just have to ask, was what she wanted to say, but Carver was already clearly uncomfortable, and she didn't want to push him too far by making things more emotional than he was comfortable with. So they continued on their way in silence as they headed from Darktown to the Alienage.

Brianna wondered as they went just how things were going between her brother and Merrill. She knew how Carver felt about the young elf, but she had no idea if Merrill returned her brother's feelings. She obviously liked Carver, but whether her feelings were any deeper than that, Brianna wasn't sure. To be honest, she didn't even know if Merrill understood just how Carver felt about her, as any time she'd seen her brother flirt with Merrill, it had seemed to go right over her head, and Brianna hadn't seen any obvious signs that they were anything more than friends at this point, no matter how much Carver obviously wished otherwise. Not, she thought ruefully, that her own love life was going any better.

Mardin had not once attempted to contact her in the last couple of days, not since she'd made such a fool of herself with him. And though she tried to tell herself that she was glad he hadn't tried to explain himself to her, when it was so obvious that there was nothing to explain, she couldn't help the tiny part of her that wished he would have at least tried, or told her how it was all a big mistake. Merely so she could tell him how she didn't care, of course.

Now that she'd had some time to think about it, she wasn't as mad at him as she had originally been, though. Part of it was really her own fault, after all. She'd known exactly what he was like, that he was a shameless rake that hopped from one woman's bed to another, so why should she be surprised that when she hadn't let things go further that night, he'd simply moved on to the next woman?

But somehow, she had been surprised. It had taken her a couple of hours to gather her wits enough to know how she wanted to explain things to him, and she'd headed back to the Hanged Man in the hopes that he would still be there, drinking or maybe talking to Varric. Instead, she'd seen him kissing Isabela after obviously slinking his way out of her bed, and she'd been shocked, hurt, but above all, angry that he could dismiss her so easily.

So she'd stormed off, refusing to let him explain, nor had she given him the explanation for why she'd left him so abruptly. She had been going to tell him that when she had said she couldn't, what she had really meant was not yet, not there in the street and not so soon. She hadn't meant not ever, at least not then.

There had been two reasons she had so abruptly called a halt to their embrace, neither of which she'd been able to properly articulate at the time. One of them had been the voice of her mother ringing in her head, asking her how she could be doing such a thing in public when it could so easily bring shame to their family. Her mother had come across her in a similar situation when she was only sixteen kissing a boy for the first time behind the barn, and had been positively furious with her, telling her what a bad example she was setting for the twins and especially Bethany. Mother had in no uncertain terms told her she should not be engaging in such activities with a boy unless she loved him, to which she'd had to admit she wasn't entirely sure how she felt about that particular boy, and Mother had gone on to say she most certainly should not have done anything in such a public place where anyone could have seen her. They had moved not long after that, which had led to them finally ending up in Lothering, where she had met her other two lovers. She had been careful to make sure her mother never found out about them, however.

The other reason had been her father. Though Father had been much kinder when he'd heard about the incident behind the barn, he had told her that as a mage, she had to be very careful with her desires. She had to make certain that she always had control over them, and that they never overwhelmed or consumed her, for there was no telling what that might unleash. She had never quite understood what he meant, though, for her previous experiences, while pleasant and enjoyable, had never been what she would have called consuming or overwhelming. It wasn't until she'd kissed Mardin that she'd finally understood what Father had meant; her lust for Mardin had been so all-consuming at that moment that she'd nearly let him take her right there on the street for anyone to see. It wasn't until she'd realized just what she was doing and where they were that she'd realized just how far she'd let things go, and it had terrified her. But her wits had been so addled at the time, she'd been unable to explain any of that to Mardin, and so she had simply fled.

And then, by the time she'd gathered her thoughts enough to know what she wanted to say and gone back to talk to him, she'd discovered that he obviously hadn't cared at all. So really, it was just as well she'd left when she had, she told herself. Common sense had prevailed, and it was for the best, anyway. She needed to be careful and maintain control, and obviously she couldn't do that if she entered into a fling with Mardin. He would simply have to be nothing more than a companion to her now, no different than anyone else.

By this point, they had finally reached the alienage, which looked more gloomy than ever with the sky being completely overcast, though it was fortunately not raining yet, which would have made things even worse. Merrill spotted them almost immediately from where she stood comforting an older elven woman, waving enthusiastically to them to come over. Brianna and Carver made their way across the square to where the two elves stood by one of the many bedraggled booths in the alienage.

"Merrill, what's going on?" Brianna asked as they stopped a few feet away. She noticed that the older woman had obviously been crying, tear tracks staining their way through her black facial tattoos, and both her dark blonde hair and simple woollen dress were rumpled, as though she could care less about her appearance at the moment.

"Carver, Hawke!" Merrill smiled brilliantly at them. "I'm so glad you came! I mean, of course you came, I asked you to, but you could have said no, so – "

"Merrill," Carver interrupted her gently, "of course we wouldn't say no if you asked us. Whenever you need something, I – uh – we – will always come to help."

Merrill flushed, ducking her head, and Brianna hid a grin behind her hand. Carver was so clearly head over heels for the young mage, it was almost too cute.

"Um, well, thank you," Merrill managed at last. "This is Arianni. Her son is missing, and I think he's in trouble."

"What happened?" Brianna asked, turning to Arianni. "How did your son go missing?"

Arianni darted a frightened glance to Merrill, who nodded reassuringly. "It's okay. Hawke is like me; she won't turn him in. She can help."

"You – you're an apostate too?" Arianni blurted eagerly.

Brianna shot a quick glance at Merrill, who simply beamed at her, while Carver made a strangled noise next to her. She turned back to the other woman, nodding; it seemed there was no point in denying it. "I am. Is your son one as well?"

"Yes, my son, Feynriel . . . he's all I have, all my family. When I learned he had magic, I could not bear to send him to the Circle," Arianni explained, a tear starting its way down her cheek again as she continued, "But his connection to the Fade . . . it gives him nightmares, dreams of demons, speaking in his mind. I would rather lose him to the Circle than to himself, but he didn't agree. He thinks I betrayed his trust, and so he ran. And now all the Templars are looking for him. Ser Thrask promises to grant him mercy, but only if he turns himself in, and I can't find him anywhere. I don't know what to do!"

The first part of the story, trying to hide a loved one's magical abilities from the Circle, was all too common, but the rest of it was not precisely what Brianna had expected to hear. On the one hand, she could hardly blame the boy for running from the Circle, but on the other hand, if he was already having dreams of demons speaking to him, that was not a good sign. Such a thing was only supposed to happen rarely, and usually only if a mage was in great distress. "What kind of dreams is he having?" she asked Arianni. "Is it happening often?"

Arianni nodded. "Every night, he dreams of demons, calling to him, pulling him into their world. Every day it grows harder to wake him. That is why I turned to the Circle. They are the only ones that can protect a mage from his own powers."

Every night? It was worse than she'd thought. Somebody needed to find this boy before he turned into an abomination and got himself, and possibly others, killed. There was no time to waste. "Do you have any idea where he might have gone, or where we should start looking?" Brianna demanded.

"There are two places where you might start your search," Arianni replied quietly. "Ser Thrask, the Templar I mentioned earlier, has been looking for him. If you speak to him in the Gallows, he'll be able to tell you what ground he's already covered. And Feynriel's father, Vincento, recently returned from Antiva. He's a human merchant in the Lowtown Bazaar. Feynriel might have sought him out. I cannot say if Vincento would have helped him, however. He never wanted anything to do with him before. But I don't know anywhere else that he might have gone."

"Well, we'll start there and see what we find out," Brianna told her reassuringly. "If we do find him, however, what is it you would like us to do?"

"Just – just get him somewhere safe, please," Arianni begged. "I know he does not wish to go to the Circle, but I . . . I truly think they are the only people who might save his life. Ser Thrask seems like a kind man, and a good Templar. If you do find Feynriel, please let him know. I'm sure he will help."

Brianna nodded. She didn't always agree with the Circle, particularly not in cases with average mages who were in control, but this boy sounded like the exact reason the Circles had first come into being. He clearly needed proper training and supervision, and the Circle was unfortunately the only place equipped to provide it right now. And if it was what his mother wished, she was certainly in no position to suggest otherwise. "I will not leave you fearful for a moment longer than necessary," she promised Arianni. "We will go look for him right away. Do you want to come with us, Merrill?"

Merrill hesitated, looking from them to Arianni. "I . . . think it would be best if I stayed here and kept Arianni company. That is, if that's all right?"

Arianni smiled, wiping stray tears away from her face. "I would appreciate it. I've felt so alone since Feynriel left. I have no one else."

"That's a good idea, Merrill," Brianna agreed. "And if Feynriel does happen to come back, make sure to send us word, okay?" As Merrill nodded, promising that she would, Brianna turned to Arianni. "I don't suppose you have something of Feynriel's? Something that would . . . prove you sent us to help?"

"Oh, of course!" Arianni exclaimed. "I do actually have this bracelet that I wove for him." She dug the bracelet, intricately woven from strips of leather, from a pocket of her dress and handed it to Brianna. "He always wore it until he heard about me contacting the Circle. Then he left it behind with his note when he ran away." She sniffled again, wiping at more tears.

"Merrill," Carver said quietly, "why don't you take her to your house while we go look for Feynriel? We'll come back once we've found something out, okay?"

"Oh!" Merrill clapped her hands over her mouth before nodding vigorously. "Yes, right away!" She took Arianni's arm gently, leading the older woman away, and Brianna could hear her saying as she went, "You can sit wherever you like, and I have – well, water, but you can have as much as you'd like. And it will be more comfortable than standing in the square, I think . . ." her voice faded away as the two of them reached the door to Merrill's home on the opposite side of the alienage, and they disappeared inside.

"Let's go get some help," Brianna said to Carver, turning away and heading towards the stairs leading up out of the alienage.

Carver nodded in agreement as he kept pace with her. "The boy sounds one breath away from becoming an abomination. Let's get to him, fast. That bracelet," he went on, "is that for Mardin to track him with?"

"Well, I thought it might help. It probably smells like Feynriel, and it's how I got Buster to track you down that time you ran off." Buster had been her old Mabari hound that she'd had since she was a toddler, who had sadly died of old age not long after Father had passed away. He had been a terrific companion and guardian to both her and occasionally the twins, and had very effectively tracked Carver down one afternoon when they were younger and had gotten into a fight, causing Carver to run away. Buster had proudly dragged her stubborn brother back, his teeth firmly clinging to Carver's pant leg.

Carver made a face at her, clearly remembering the incident as well. "He's not a dog, you know."

"I know that!" Brianna protested. "But he said he could track by scent, and I have to assume it works much the same as it would for a dog. It couldn't hurt to try, anyway."

She'd actually briefly considered not asking Mardin to help at all, not wanting to see him just yet, as it was sure to be awkward and embarrassing. She'd even avoided the Hanged Man the last couple of nights, claiming to be too busy helping Anders, just so she wouldn't have to talk to Mardin. She hadn't told anyone the real reason she didn't want to go, of course, not wanting to confide in anyone about her embarrassing lack of judgment.

Bethany had been the one she'd talked to about boys, once her little sister had been old enough to understand, that is. But Bethany wasn't around any longer, and Brianna wasn't comfortable divulging stuff like that to just anyone. Certainly not her mother, who would be horrified, and telling Carver would just be horribly awkward for both of them. And she didn't feel comfortable enough with any of her friends yet to start talking about something so personal. Maybe she could talk to Aveline about it one day, though. She wasn't entirely certain that Aveline would either approve or fully understand, but she'd at least been married before, and she told Aveline almost everything else.

At any rate, she told herself firmly, it was time to stop being so childish. She would have to see Mardin eventually, or everyone would realize she was avoiding him, and besides, he would likely be of great help tracking Feynriel down. She couldn't endanger the boy and everyone that might be around him just because seeing Mardin might be awkward. She would simply have to act like nothing had ever happened.

"We'll get Mardin and Varric, and Fenris if he's around," she told Carver as they trotted up the steps out of Lowtown, heading for the mansion.

"He should be, they were still training when I left to find you," Carver replied. "But are you sure you want to bring Fenris along to find a mage?"

Brianna grimaced. It might not be the wisest of ideas, but . . . "Probably not. Still, if something goes wrong, and it usually does, we'll need all the help we can get."

"I suppose so. What about that pirate, Isabela, then?"

"No, she's probably busy looking for that relic of hers," Brianna said quickly. She might have to put up with seeing Mardin, but that didn't mean she had to put up with seeing him and Isabela all over each other. "Besides, if we need somebody to pick locks or be stealthy, we have Varric."

"All right," Carver agreed with a shrug.

It didn't take them long to reach the mansion, and as Carver had predicted, Fenris and Mardin were in the middle of sparring in the vast entryway when they came in. They stopped the fight as soon as Carver barged his way in, Brianna following more slowly behind. The two sheathed their swords as she and Carver stopped a few feet away, and Brianna caught Mardin's gaze unintentionally when he looked up. The heat in his eyes speared right through her, nearly making her gasp as her body ached with a sudden longing to feel his against it once more, but he blinked and the heat was gone so quickly she began to wonder if she'd imagined it. How could he still do that to her with one look? And _why_ would he look at her that way if he was with Isabela? _Focus_ , she reminded herself sternly. _Be professional!_

She gave the two of them a quick explanation on what she needed their help with, proud of herself for how normal she sounded as she did so. They both agreed to help, Fenris more reluctantly, of course. She finished the explanation by handing the bracelet over to Mardin, who looked amused. "Like a hound on the hunt, am I?"

"I thought it would help," she muttered, flushing, even as Carver gave her a very distinct "I told you so" look.

"It will," Mardin reassured her, sniffing at the bracelet before tucking it away. "I can't guarantee how much, but if I do happen to come across a scent trail, I'll at least know whether it's his or not."

"Good," she answered, relieved that she'd been right, and she shot her own look at Carver, who rolled his eyes. "Let's go get Varric, and then we'll visit this Vincento and see if Feynriel went to him or not." Whether he was a kind Templar or not, she wasn't about to go visit Ser Thrask unless she had no other choice. It was too risky when she herself was a mage. She just hoped the boy had gone to his father, and that his father could point them in the right direction.

They left the mansion and found Varric in his rooms at the Hanged Man, as usual, going through a stack of papers on his table. He promptly agreed to abandon what he referred to as "appallingly boring Merchant's Guild work" and followed them out of the tavern. Luckily, there was no sign of Isabela around, so Brianna was spared the awkwardness of that confrontation, at least.

It didn't take them long to reach the crowded area of Lowtown's bazaar, filled with numerous wooden stalls overflowing with displays of weapons, armor, potions, clothing, and food, as well as the sounds of dozens of voices calling out over top of one another about the various deals at their booths. Brianna asked the first stall they came across where they could find Vincento, and the merchant pointed out another stall across the street and down a little ways, where a man with shoulder-length light brown hair was calling out to the passers-by in heavily accented tones.

Brianna promptly headed over to his stall, and before she could address Vincento herself, he swept her a low bow. "Greetings, my lady. You look like a woman who'd appreciate the finest rubies from Antiva gracing her lovely neck. I bring only the best northern merchandise to the Free Marches."

Seeing no point in stalling, Brianna replied, "Actually, I'm not interested in your wares so much as I am your son."

"My lady!" Vincento protested. "I am a bachelor. I have never met a woman of sufficient beauty and charm to tie Vincento down . . ." He laughed, shrugging before he continued on. "Let us not ruin the day with such weighty thoughts. Perhaps I could show you my silks . . ."

"He's lying," Mardin whispered to her before she could even ask. "The smell is faint, but Feynriel's been here at some point."

Hoping she was correctly guessing the reason why he was lying, Brianna cast a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching before she cupped her hands together in front of her, allowing a glowing ball of light to form there before immediately quenching it. "We're not Templars, serah. Feynriel has nothing to fear from us. We just want to help."

Vincento reeled back in surprise. "Maldicion! You're a mage!" He studied her for a moment, his expression gradually smoothing out into relief. "I suppose you'd be kind, then, to a boy who resists being taken in by Templars?"

"Oh, sure, like he's family," Carver said dryly from Brianna's right side, and she elbowed him in the ribs.

Apparently Vincento found Carver's remark reassuring, for he went on, "The boy's in over his head, so I sent him to the only man I know who doesn't despise mages. A former Templar named Samson."

Brianna frowned. "Why would a Templar help him run away?"

"His conscience plagues him, having served the Templars too long. He now helps mages on the run. He's usually somewhere near the entrance to Darktown," Vincento explained. He hesitated for a moment, before adding, "The boy needs all the help he can get."

"And he will get it, serah," Brianna promised him, before she turned to leave, gesturing the others to follow.

"I've heard of this Samson fellow," Varric said. "Rumour has it he'll do almost anything for a few silvers nowadays. Shouldn't be hard to find out where he sent the kid to."

They found Samson lurking in the streets not far from the entrance to Darktown, and as Varric had predicted, a few silvers eventually loosened the weaselly-looking ex-Templar's tongue. The man admitted to having sent Feynriel, as well as another female apostate, to a ship captain named Reiner who occasionally took on runaways, although according to rumour, he kidnapped the runaways just as often as he helped them. All Samson could tell them besides that, however, was that Reiner might be holding them at a warehouse somewhere on the Lowtown docks.

Brianna sighed as they took their leave of Samson. "Vincento wasn't kidding – Feynriel is in way over his head. Now he's probably going to end up sold to slavers or something."

"He should have gone to the Circle. That is where he belongs," Fenris said darkly.

"As it happens, I agree with you this time. He needs training to master his power before he gets himself killed." Brianna gave Fenris a significant look to warn him that this agreement was an exception, not the rule.

"There are a lot of warehouses down at the docks, Bree," Carver pointed out. "This isn't going to be easy."

"That's where Red comes in," Varric declared. "He'll track the kid down, right?"

Mardin shrugged. "I'll do my best. At least there shouldn't be as many people around the warehouses as there is in Lowtown. That might help in picking up a trail."

Fortunately, Mardin was eventually able to find a trail after they arrived at the warehouses near the docks, though it took over an hour of searching in steadily increasing darkness as night came on before he finally picked it up, leading them to one of the shabbier, more deserted-looking warehouses.

No sooner had they entered the building after Varric picked the lock than they were attacked by several armed men, as a man shouted down from the walkway above, "We can't let anyone see this – kill anyone who's not one of ours!"

They immediately launched into action as half a dozen men swarmed at them. Mardin, Fenris, and Carver raced forward to meet the oncoming attackers while Bianca's bolts launched at them in rapid-fire succession. Brianna fried the man up on the walkway who'd shouted with a lightning bolt, causing him to fall over the railing and crash to the ground below.

Brianna heard a scream from the rooms above at that moment, and noticing that the rest of the party was keeping their attackers busy, she raced for the stairs and the source of the noise. It didn't take long for her to trace the screams to a room up on the walkway, and as she entered through one doorway, she could hear a man shouting at the far end of the room, "Get ahold of her!"

Unable to see where the girl was in relation to the men, Brianna hurried forward through the stacks of barrels and crates in the long room, not wanting to risk an area spell that might hurt the girl as well, hearing her cry out as she went, "Please! Help me! Anyone . . ."

"I'm coming!" Brianna shouted, but at the same moment, a man's voice drowned her out, yelling, "Get the hands! I heard they can't do no spells without hands!"

"Don't!" Brianna screamed, as she felt the wrenching of the Veil immediately following that statement, but she was too late. She rounded the last group of barrels just in time to see the girl burst into flames, a rage abomination emerging in her place only seconds later, snarling, "You know nothing of magic!"

The man directly in front of the abomination screamed as a flaming hand erupted through his back, and Brianna threw a blizzard spell fuelled by grief and fury at the four men and the abomination in front of her. There was no need to worry about hitting the girl anymore. She followed that up with a blast of chain lightning and furiously directed arcane bolts, and it was only the calls of "Hawke! Bree!" and the soothing hand on her shoulder that finally calmed her fury.

She took a deep breath, letting her spells fizzle out as Carver and the others mopped up what was left of the fight, though the hand didn't leave her shoulder. She looked up to see Mardin there as he squeezed her shoulder gently. "You can't save everybody. But we might still be able to save Feynriel. Focus on that, okay?"

She nodded, taking another deep breath. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gotten carried away like that."

"It's okay, I understand," he told her quietly. "That could have been you."

"Or Bethany, before she -" She shook her head, cutting herself off and willing back the angry tears that were threatening to spill out. "She shouldn't have given into the demon, but they cornered her, and she was so afraid. She didn't see another way out – she didn't hear me calling . . ."

"You did the best you could." He let go of her shoulder, running his hand through his hair. "If I'd managed to find this warehouse sooner –"

"No," she interrupted him firmly, sudden conviction bursting through her, "if I'm not allowed to blame myself, neither are you. We'll just have to make sure that doesn't happen to Feynriel."

By this point, the others had finished making sure that the abomination and the men surrounding it were defeated, and Varric came back over to her. "You all right, Hawke?" She nodded, determined that she would be, and after studying her for a moment, Varric continued, "Let's see if they've got anything in writing. They weren't planning to sell the girl here."

The five of them began digging through the room, and finally Carver found a paper in one of the chests that stated they'd sold a male mage to a man named Danzig in Darktown.

"Let's go find this Danzig before Feynriel ends up the same way," Brianna said, heading for the door. She was not going to witness two mages turning into abominations in the same day. She refused to let that happen.

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It didn't take them long to get to Darktown, though night had completely fallen by the time they did. Between Fenris and Mardin and their very realistic threats, it became an easy manner to find out which corner of Darktown Danzig liked to hide out in, and they were soon descending the rickety wooden stairs to the makeshift camp where an oily-looking mage stood warming his hands at a firepit, wearing grey and white robes with a black hood. There were six other armed men scattered in the small, smelly area, but Brianna marched right up to the mage, as one of the men who'd told them where to find Danzig had mentioned him being a mage.

"We want to know where Feynriel is, the mage that you sold," she snapped at Danzig, planting her hands on her hips as the others stopped behind her.

Danzig leered at her, completely ignoring her words as he drawled, "Why, look here, boys. Volunteers! Clap 'em in irons, and let's see what the Tevinters will pay for them. Such a fine-looking bunch, all of them, too. Especially this pretty girl."

He'd reached out to touch her face, but she smacked his hand away in disgust. This Danzig absolutely deserved what was coming to him. "Fenris, I know how much you like slavers. He's all yours as long as you can make him talk."

Brianna looked over to Fenris on her right, noticing that he was almost smiling as his markings lit up, bathing the area in an eerie blue-white glow. "I can do that." Fenris plunged his glowing hand into Danzig's chest, making the mage gasp for breath and crumple to the ground in mere seconds. Fenris yanked his hand back out before Danzig hit the ground completely.

Brianna was surprised that no one came to the mage's defense, but perhaps the men were waiting for some signal she didn't know. In any case, Danzig got to his feet shakily within another few seconds, gasping out, "Andraste's great flaming ass! How did you do that? Never mind. I-I've stashed the boy in a cave. A smuggler hideout on the Wounded Coast. Tevinters will be by to finish the deal tomorrow morning. Now . . . c-can I go?"

"Please tell me we get to kill these guys," Mardin growled from her left.

Brianna nodded firmly. Letting slavers live was not an option for her, especially not after what she'd witnessed with that mage girl. "Yeah, we do."

Danzig's staff lit up at that moment, which was obviously the signal the other slavers had been waiting for. They drew their weapons and came rushing to Danzig's aid as Brianna blocked his fire blast with a shielding spell of her own. She shot a lightning spell at him as Fenris flashed up the stairs to their right, ripping through the archers that had appeared there, and an earth-shaking roar sounded from behind her, followed by terrified screams.

Danzig was a decently powerful mage, but he hadn't been taught by Malcolm Hawke, and it only took Brianna a few minutes to overwhelm him with her own magic and bring him down with a final lightning spell, leaving his fried body twitching on the ground. By the time she'd done so, the rest of the party had taken care of all the slavers, and Mardin had switched back from his bear form.

"So, I don't suppose you know exactly which smuggler's cave he meant, Varric?" Brianna asked hopefully as they gathered together in the center of the carnage.

Varric shook his head. "'Fraid not, Hawke. There's dozens of little caves on the Wounded Coast. Mind you, Red might be able to help a little."

"It could take a long time," Mardin warned. "The Wounded Coast is huge, and we don't even know where to start looking."

"Well, one of them might have a map," Carver pointed out. "Mardin's right that the Coast is huge, and they would probably need help to find it too."

"That's a good idea, Carver," Brianna agreed, looking at her brother in surprise, and he looked equally startled that she'd agreed with him. "Let's have a look and see what we can find. They probably have other useful things we can take, anyway."

In the end, they did find a map of the Wounded Coast with the cave marked on it, as well as a decent amount of coins, some potions, and several other small items that they could sell.

"We should go to the Wounded Coast immediately," Fenris said when they'd finished. "It will still take some time to find the cave, even with the aid of this map, and we need to arrive before the slavers do."

"You're right." Brianna looked at the others. "I know it's late, but –"

"We have to go," Mardin finished for her.

Carver nodded. "Merrill would be upset if we came back empty-handed."

"And we wouldn't want Daisy upset, would we, Junior?" Varric said slyly. When Carver glared at him, the dwarf raised his hands in defense. "I was agreeing with you! I don't like seeing Daisy unhappy."

"Thank you." Brianna nodded at them all gratefully. "Now let's go. We need to hurry; we don't want to be too late to help again."

They made their way out of Kirkwall and towards the Wounded Coast, Carver in the lead as he was the best at reading maps, having spent a good deal of time learning it from their father. Brianna had never had the patience for figuring the maps out, but Carver was rather good at it, and Brianna was happy enough to let him take point for once.

They were halfway to the Coast when Mardin dropped back next to her where she was dawdling at the back of the line, and she immediately tensed up. "We need to talk about it eventually," he said quietly.

He was right, they should talk about it eventually, so they could clear the air and go back to merely being companions, she told herself. She'd thought at first that she would rather not talk about it at all, but after the events of today, she'd decided she at least owed it to him to hear what he had to say about it. Things had been much less awkward between them than she'd expected, and she couldn't forget how soothing the touch of his hand on her shoulder had been when she'd been so furious and upset. She nodded at last. "We should, and we will. But not right now. This is more important, and besides, we should talk somewhere a little more private."

She waved her hand at the others ahead of them, Carver squinting at the map in the moonlight that had finally broken free of the clouds, Fenris and Varric debating the merits of wine versus ale. They didn't appear to be paying any attention to her or Mardin, but she didn't want to chance having a personal discussion so close to the others, anyway.

He nodded, looking down at her for a moment without saying anything. She wished she could read his expression, but it was frustratingly blank as he replied, "All right. Once we've rescued Feynriel, let me know when you're ready, and we'll find somewhere to talk."

"I will," she promised him, and before she could say anything else, he'd gone on ahead to join Carver, clapping her brother on the shoulder and saying something that made him laugh. She sighed, watching the play of muscles in his back and shoulders before she shook her head and ordered herself to focus. They still had Feynriel to find, and they had to get to him before he became an abomination. She would bring him safely back to Kirkwall and his mother, she vowed to herself, even if his mother could only see him at the Circle. She would straighten things out between her and Mardin when they got back, too. And if there was some tiny part of her that still hoped he'd say he made a mistake and beg her for forgiveness, well, a girl was allowed to dream, wasn't she?


	9. Burdens of Responsibility

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brianna and the others rescue Feynriel and return to Kirkwall to report to his mother. The next day, Brianna and Mardin have a much-needed talk, which does not quite go the way either of them had hoped. Isabela promises Mardin she will help, and Varric eventually decides to intervene.

Chapter 9: Burdens of Responsibility

"This should be it." Carver checked the map over carefully again, tilting it this way and that in the light of the moon as Brianna and the others watched him, before looking at the cave entrance in front of them and nodding. "Yes, this is the right place, according to the map."

Brianna looked over at Mardin, who was standing partway between her and Carver. "Well, what do you think?"

Mardin walked over closer to the cave entrance, pausing just before it and taking a deep breath in. He turned back to them and nodded, wrinkling his nose. "There are definitely people in here. Apparently ones who have something against bathing."

"Unhygienic slavers? Who would've thought?" Varric joked.

Brianna snorted in agreement with him; it did seem like the majority of slavers and bandits they came across had never heard of soap. But, they did have bigger things to worry about right now, such as getting to Feynriel before morning arrived, so she headed for the entrance, calling over her shoulder, "Let's go get Feynriel back before something happens to him, or the Tevinters arrive to pick him up."

Mardin readied his sword and shield, hurrying to enter the cave ahead of her along with Carver, the two of them moving cautiously forward as Brianna fell in behind along with Varric and Fenris. The cave appeared to be an old mining one, full of abandoned mining carts, old wooden tables, lanterns, and even wooden beams built into the roof and walls to support the tunnel that had been carved for easy passage. They eventually came out of the tunnel into a larger, more open area, and before Mardin and Carver had gone more than a few feet forward, an arrow whistled down at them. Mardin moved quickly, bringing his shield up above his head, blocking the arrow before it reached him.

"Definitely the right place," Carver said dryly as Mardin pushed him back, keeping his shield up above their heads, and Brianna quickly scanned the open area, searching for the archer that had fired.

Varric was quicker than her, however, and just as Brianna had located the archer, one of Bianca's bolts sailed past her, piercing through the archer's throat, and the fight was on. Several more slavers raced forward to meet their party, met by Carver, Fenris and Mardin as they stayed ahead of Brianna and Varric. Brianna did her best to aim her spells past the three of them without hitting them in the process, and was able to pick off two slavers of her own before the fight was over.

"I do not see the mage anywhere," Fenris informed Brianna, returning from the corner he had followed one of the slavers to as he'd tried to flee.

Brianna frowned, glancing around the large, open area, well lit as it was by torches and lanterns. She did not see any sign of a prisoner being kept here either, no cages up on the various wooden platforms, or young boy huddled in a corner hiding. "They must not have been keeping him in here, then. Is there another room?"

"There's another tunnel back here!" Carver called from another corner of the cave where he'd been searching.

"He must be deeper in. Let's go." Brianna hurried towards Carver, gesturing for the others to follow as she did so.

They caught up to her quickly, Mardin pulling ahead of her to take point, keeping his shield out in front of him as they made their way along another winding tunnel. It took only a few minutes for them to arrive in another open cavern, this one a bit smaller than the last, and the first thing Brianna noticed as she came up behind Mardin was the rocky ledge on the opposite side, well above their heads. An armed, rather chubby man with braided red hair was holding a sword to the throat of a small, skinny young boy with long ash-blonde hair and a terrified expression on his face who could only be Feynriel.

"Take one more step, and the boy dies," the man said coldly as Brianna slipped up next to Mardin, holding her hands up in a peaceful gesture as she stopped several feet away from the rocky ledge.

She hesitated for a brief moment, wondering how best to handle the situation. Could she get a spell off before the man slit Feynriel's throat? Or not hit Feynriel in the process? She wasn't sure, but looking over at Varric, she was suddenly struck by another idea. "Varric, why don't you tell this kind gentleman just who we are?"

Varric gave her a quick grin and a nod, obviously seeing where she was going with this, before he called up to the man, "If I were you, I wouldn't be threatening the viscount's son."

The man frowned, looking confused. "What?"

"Oh, I suppose you just got a tip from a slaver that he was selling mage-flesh cheap. You never thought to ask where he got it?" Varric demanded in an incredulous tone. Brianna fought to keep a straight face as she could see the man starting to shift uncomfortably while Varric continued, "You never wondered if you were buying the viscount's well-known love child from his elven mistress, the boy he swore to protect even if it meant razing the entire Free Marches?"

The slaver cast a considering look down at Varric before replying, "I seek no war with the Free Marches. Take the lad to his father."

"That is an excellent choice, good ser," Brianna told the man, nodding approvingly, and proud of herself for not laughing at Varric's outlandish tale or the look of alarm on the slaver's face. "You have made a wise decision."

The man finally dropped his sword from Feynriel's throat, sheathing it as he said, "This was the price set on the boy." He dug in his tunic, producing a pouch of money which he tossed down to them. Varric caught it deftly as the man went on, "Please accept it . . . as an offer of peace." With that, he walked away from the boy, leaving through an exit in the cave wall that Brianna only now noticed behind him.

"Can you get down?" Mardin called up to the boy, who looked a bit pale and shaky. He nodded in response, however, and headed to the side of the ledge, where there appeared to be a rocky path snaking down to the cave floor. Feynriel began cautiously picking his way down.

"The viscount's love-child?" Brianna asked Varric quietly, trying to contain her amusement. "Really?"

"What?" he replied with a shrug. "It worked, didn't it?"

"One of these days, dwarf, your lies will become so outrageous that no one will possibly be able to believe you," Fenris said dryly.

"Don't be ridiculous, Broody," Varric retorted. "I know how to keep things toned down to the level of a perfectly believable story."

Mardin snorted, looking amused even as Carver raised his eyebrows. "That was toned down?"

By this point, Feynriel had reached them, scratching his chest and looking nervously at the five of them, his dark woollen clothes looking dusty and bedraggled, as though he'd been on the run for days. "Excuse me," he began tentatively, interrupting whatever Varric had been about to say, "but who are all of you? Are you working for the Templars?"

"Do we look like we work for the Templars?" Brianna asked him incredulously, tapping at the staff strapped to her back, which was long enough to be clearly visible over her shoulder. "Your mother sent us. She's been worried sick about you."

Feynriel scowled, his nervousness apparently disappearing at the mention of his mother. "Hmph. Hardly a difference. I can't believe her. My whole life, it was all, 'I'll love you and protect you.' Then I have some bad dreams and it's, 'off to the templars!'" He threw his hands up in clear frustration, shaking his head.

Brianna sighed, studying him. He was a bit older than she'd first thought, now that she saw him up close, likely only a couple of years younger than Carver, but still clearly inexperienced. She could see why the boy felt betrayed by his mother, but he obviously had no idea what he was really dealing with, and she was the one that had to explain it to him before he got himself or someone else killed.

"I really hate to say this," she told him at last, "but in your case, I think she's right. She really is doing this to protect you." She held up her hand to halt his protest as she continued sternly, "If you're having nightmares where demons are talking to you, you need help. The Circle of Magi, unfortunately, are the only ones that know enough to offer that. And believe me, I'm not saying this lightly. I may be a mage, but I've never had dreams like yours, and nor has any other mage I've known."

"Well, I'm not going," Feynriel replied defiantly, crossing his arms over his chest. "I was trying to get to the Dalish. They won't be afraid of my magic."

Brianna sighed in exasperation, resisting the urge to throw her hands up in defeat. It was like he hadn't heard a word she'd said. He might even be more stubborn than Carver, she thought wryly.

"Hate to break it to you, kid, but the Dalish aren't too fond of humans, not even the ones that are part elf. And you look just as human as these three." Varric gestured to Brianna, Carver, and Mardin, and Brianna cast him a grateful look for the intervention.

"I'd rather be killed by the Dalish than turned Tranquil by Templars!" Feynriel snapped. He sighed when Brianna merely raised her eyebrows at him. "Look, I know it's different in other kingdoms, but here . . . no one helps Circle mages. Anything the Templars don't like, you get the brand. The Dalish, they've had magic forever. They could teach me. I won't be a danger, I swear."

"Because no Dalish mage ever went astray," Fenris said darkly, glaring at the boy, who looked frightened, but kept his defiant stance, chin up as he looked back at them all.

Maker, she was so tired, Brianna thought, rubbing her forehead wearily. It had been a long night searching for this boy already, and now somehow, she'd ended up being the one responsible for the rest of his life. Why was she always the one having to make these decisions? And what if she made the wrong one? She had no idea what she was supposed to do here, or how to decide. It was so much easier to make decisions in the heat of battle than it was after the dust had settled, and the weight of this decision was making her head spin.

The soothing weight of a hand on her shoulder grounded her, and she looked up to see Mardin squeezing her shoulder again gently. She wondered just how he managed to make such a simple touch so comforting as he said softly, "It'll be okay. Just do what you feel is right. That's all you can do."

What _did_ she feel was right? Well, she knew what she'd thought when she'd started looking for the boy, and though his suggestion of the Dalish had made things more murky, there was one thing that would help to clear it up, she realized. She met Feynriel's gaze evenly, hands planted on her hips as she asked quietly, "Was your mother right? Are you plagued by demons already?"

Feynriel looked down, shrugging, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "I can't say for sure. I have . . . dreams. There are voices in the dreams. They ask me to come, to give shape to the Void around them." He looked up again, his expression hopeful and pleading as he added, "But the Dalish Keeper is wise. If anyone can help, she can!"

Voices in his dreams . . . Brianna shook her head and sighed. It was just as she'd feared; the boy was in far too much danger already. It certainly made her decision clear again, although it didn't make it any easier for her as she told Feynriel, "Sorry, but it's too much of a risk. The Dalish aren't equipped to deal with you if you do become an abomination. I won't risk the lives of an entire clan when the Circle can help you as well. I've heard that Thrask is a good man – he'll keep an eye on you and make sure you're treated fairly. And if you honestly think you're going to be made Tranquil for no good reason, send me a letter. I'll break you out."

Feynriel snorted. "As if it would be that easy to break into a Circle! Do you honestly think you could get me out before I turned Tranquil?"

"We have our ways," Brianna told him evenly, keeping her shoulders squared and her gaze firm. Feynriel met her gaze pleadingly, but she stood her ground, not flinching, knowing that if she showed any sign that she was wavering, he'd pounce on it. His face fell when she said nothing more, and finally, he threw his hands up in exasperation.

"Fine!" He snapped at her. "Go get your blood money, tell my mother she won. But she'll be the only one I don't miss when they lock me away."

Brianna sighed. "Look, don't be like that. Your mother is only trying to make sure you're safe, and she was really concerned for you. At least let her visit you."

"Just take me back to my prison," Feynriel retorted, arms crossed as he looked away.

"Fine, let's go," Brianna said at last, seeing no point in arguing further, and she gestured to the others to head back the way they'd come. It was going to be a long walk back to Kirkwall.

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It did, indeed, turn out to be a long walk back to Kirkwall. During the whole trek back along the Wounded Coast and over to Kirkwall, Feynriel veered between long, sullen silences, angry rants about her being a traitor to her kind, and tearful pleadings not to make him go to the Circle. Mardin had been threatening to knock him out and carry him back, obviously seeing how much it was weighing on Brianna, when Varric solved the problem by telling Feynriel that if he didn't shut up, Bianca would soon be the one doing all the talking. Feynriel had looked briefly confused, until Varric had pointed the crossbow at him, the dwarf's gaze very serious, and the boy had been silent the rest of the way after that. Brianna had quietly and profusely thanked Varric for that; it had been a great relief for her not to have to listen to the boy's accusations or pleading any longer.

It was dawn by the time they finally reached the outskirts of Kirkwall, the sun breaking over the horizon in a wash of red and orange, and Brianna was thoroughly exhausted, wanting only to get this job done and over with so she could sleep. With that in mind, she stopped at the gates to Kirkwall and asked Varric, Fenris and Mardin to take Feynriel to the Gallows and turn him over to Ser Thrask before they headed home to sleep as well. Ser Thrask might be a kind Templar, but she still thought it was likely best for everyone if the boy wasn't turned in by another apostate mage. In the meantime, she and Carver headed to the alienage to let Arianni and Merrill know what had happened before they could finally head home themselves.

"So, what now?" Carver muttered as they crossed the alienage, making their way to Merrill's door. "We go tell his mother, 'your boy's alive, but he hates you?'"

"He'll get over it eventually," Brianna replied, hoping that she was right. How long could the boy stay mad at his mother, anyway? "At least, for her sake, I hope he will."

"If it helps," Carver began hesitantly, "I think you did the right thing. He's not like you or . . . Bethany. He _was_ too dangerous."

Brianna looked up at him in surprise, nodding gratefully. His words did lighten some of the burden she'd been feeling all the way back here. "It does help. Thank you."

Carver shrugged, looking uncomfortable as they finally reached the door. "You're welcome. Uh, let's get this over with, shall we?" He knocked on Merrill's door.

Merrill opened the door almost immediately, smiling with relief when she saw that it was them. "Carver! Hawke! You're back! Did you find him? Is he here? Well, I mean, obviously he's not _here_ here but is he in Kirkwall? Is he safe?"

Arianni had joined her at the door by this point, looking exhausted, her eyes red-rimmed and her face still tracked with the streaks from her tears. "Is Feynriel – is he okay?"

"He's fine," Brianna told her gently, Arianni's face crumpling in relief almost instantly. "He's angry, but he's fine."

"We sent him to the Circle," Carver added. "Varric and the others took him to Ser Thrask while we came here. He wasn't very happy about going there, though."

"You – sent him to the Circle?" Merrill looked back and forth between the two of them, clearly unhappy. "Hawke, you're a mage! How could you? I thought you would have understood that there are other ways!"

"Not in his case," Brianna told her firmly. "He wasn't in control, and it was what his mother wanted." She nodded at Arianni. Merrill frowned, opening her mouth, then glancing at Arianni, she closed it again.

"It _was_ what I wanted," Arianni agreed softly. "Thank you for finding him, and making sure he is safe, even if it is from himself as well. He may never forgive me for sending him there, but I'd rather him alive and furious than dead and buried." She glanced significantly at Merrill, who nodded unhappily before she turned back to Brianna, continuing, "As I said, I have little money, but this is a Dalish ring that has been in my family for generations. Please accept it with my thanks." She held the ring out in her open palm.

"Oh, I couldn't possibly take something like that." Brianna shook her head as Arianni reached forward more, trying to hand her the ring. "I just wanted to help." Besides which, she'd gotten money from the slavers who had been holding Feynriel; she didn't need anything else, especially from this woman who had so little.

"Please, you must," Arianni replied, taking another step forward. "I owe you a debt."

"Hawke, just take it," Merrill said quietly when Brianna shook her head again. "It would be an insult not to."

Brianna looked at her, then to Arianni, who nodded, before she sighed and gave in, taking the ring this time. "Then I thank you for the generous gift."

"You are welcome. I should go." Arianni turned to Merrill. "Thank you for your hospitality, but I have imposed on you long enough."

Though Merrill still looked unhappy, she nodded, clearly forcing a smile for Arianni. "You're very welcome. And any time you want to visit, you can. It would be nice to have a friend in the alienage."

"I will, thank you." Arianni smiled at Merrill, before Carver quickly moved aside, allowing the older woman to leave.

As soon as Arianni was out of earshot, Merrill turned to Brianna again. "How could you do that, Hawke? I thought you would find another way!"

Brianna sighed, shaking her head. "There was no other way. He was being plagued by demons. He needed help and he needed to learn how to control his powers."

"I'm in contact with a demon! Are you going to turn me in?" Merrill demanded.

"Merrill –" Carver began, but Merrill cut him off, hands on her hips as she faced him, eyes glittering with tears. "And I suppose you agree with her?"

"Well, yes," Carver muttered, looking uncomfortable as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Don't be ridiculous, Merrill," Brianna said quickly, trying to divert Merrill's attention from her poor brother, who looked like he hadn't the slightest idea how to deal with her at the moment. "I'm not going to turn you in. You're in control." _Mostly, anyway_. Though she was reluctant to admit it, Brianna had yet to see any sign that Merrill couldn't control the demon or the blood magic, not that she agreed with using either. Still, she certainly wasn't going to turn Merrill in, not until she had absolute proof that Merrill wasn't in control. "And I'm not going to talk about this anymore right now," she added when Merrill opened her mouth again. "I'm exhausted and I'm going to bed. You should too." Without waiting for an answer, she turned and walked away, giving Carver a pointed look that he should follow her, but he shook his head stubbornly, and she kept going, too tired to argue with Merrill anymore.

She sighed when she heard Carver behind her, saying, "Merrill, please – " followed by the slamming of a door. Carver caught up to her almost immediately thereafter, looking despondent.

"She'll get over it eventually, too," Brianna said after a moment, her heart hurting for the look on her little brother's face as he scuffed along beside her.

Carver sighed. "She seemed really upset . . . and angry. I hope you're right."

For his sake, Brianna sincerely hoped she was too. "Me too," she told him quietly, squeezing his shoulder. They headed home the rest of the way in exhausted silence.

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Brianna had slept better than she'd expected to, considering how much had been weighing on her mind when she'd finally gotten home. She must have been even more exhausted than she'd realized, however, for she slept like the dead and woke up only shortly before supper. Carver was already gone when she got up, though, and she suspected he hadn't slept nearly as well. It didn't take long after she'd awoken for her to feel restless, and she finally decided that this might be a good time to talk to Mardin, since she had nothing else to do for the night. Given that he had been a surprising source of comfort for her during that last job, she hoped they'd be able to clear things up, at least enough so that they could be companions without any feelings of awkwardness between them again. And the sooner she could make that happen, the better, she thought.

She decided to head for the mansion to see if he was still there, knowing from previous experience that he liked to sleep in more than the others. Besides which, there were enough rooms in the mansion that they should be able to talk in private, something that would definitely not happen at Gamlen's place or the Hanged Man or any of the other places they usually frequented.

Fortunately, Carver wasn't there training with either Mardin or Fenris when she arrived, which she'd been afraid he might be. She wondered if he'd maybe gone to talk to Merrill when he got up, but she was mostly just grateful he wasn't there right now. He would have been curious when she asked to talk to Mardin in private, and any explanations would be awkward at best. Fenris, however, merely pointed to the hallway she'd seen Mardin come out of a few weeks before when she said she needed to talk to him, stating that he was likely still sleeping.

"His room is the second on the left," Fenris added when she hesitated at the entrance to the hallway, realizing that she didn't know which of the many rooms was Mardin's.

She turned back to look at him gratefully. "Thank you, Fenris."

"You are most welcome, Hawke," he replied before he headed up the stairs at the back of the great hall, likely heading for the study.

She stopped in front of the second door on the left, knocking loudly and praying that Mardin wasn't sleeping naked again. When he jerked the door open, she kept her gaze up and fixed on his face, just in case. He looked distinctly grumpy, his hair sticking out in several directions, but as soon as he realized it was her, his expression cleared into one of surprise. "Brianna? What are you doing here?"

"I thought we could have that talk now," she answered. "In private."

"Ah." He glanced down at himself, and she was quite proud of herself when she managed not to follow his gaze. "Then I should probably . . ."

"Put some clothes on?" she finished for him, realizing he obviously _was_ naked again, and he gave her a wry grin and a shrug, nodding.

"Wait here," he told her, and she nodded before he gently closed the door. He opened it again only a few minutes later, and she actually let herself look below his face this time to note with relief that he'd put on leggings and a tunic, though he hadn't bothered to lace the top of the tunic up, and he'd straightened out his hair. He held the door open for her, gesturing to a small wooden table in the corner of his rather sparse room which had two cushioned chairs stationed by it. "Come on in."

She headed over to the table, glancing around the room out of curiosity. The only other items of furniture in the room were the large, four-poster bed with rumpled covers, the wardrobe, and the armor stand that held his drake-scale armor, sword and shield at the moment. Other than the bed, he kept the room rather neat; there was nothing on the wooden floor, nor anything on the table but a jug of water and a couple of cups. She sat at the table, and he sat across from her, looking a little nervous as he leaned back in his chair.

"So, where did you want to start?" he asked at last, when she didn't immediately say anything.

"You're the one that said we needed to talk," she pointed out evenly. "I assumed you had some kind of explanation or apology you wanted to give." She'd found it easy enough to treat it as though things were normal between them when they'd been trying to find Feynriel, since she'd had so much else to focus on. Now, however, when she was only focusing on what had happened between the two of them, she was starting to feel angry all over again at the memory of seeing him with Isabela so soon after he'd kissed her. He'd better be about to beg her for forgiveness, or have a _really_ good explanation handy, she thought as she crossed her arms, staring at him.

Mardin sighed, running a hand through his hair and rumpling it anew. "I am sorry for hurting you. If I had known that you would be upset, I would not have said yes to Isabela."

"How could you not have known that I would be upset?!" she exclaimed in disbelief, unreasonable anger swelling up through her again. Was he serious? Was that really his excuse?! "I told you that I was jealous of Isabela, and your answer to that was to hop into bed with her right after we kissed?!"

"I only did that because you said no!" he snapped, looking irritated. "You'd made it quite clear you didn't want me touching you when you ran away from me, so yes, I didn't think you would care if I went to another woman who _actually_ wanted me!"

"I never said that I didn't want you!" she retorted, frustrated. "I said that I couldn't, not that I didn't want to! And I didn't mean not ever, just not . . . so much, so soon!"

"Well you didn't exactly explain that to me, now did you?" Mardin demanded.

"I couldn't think straight enough to explain myself then, okay?! You had me so . . ." She flapped her hand, not knowing how to say it. Aroused? Overwhelmed? Wound up? Not, she supposed, that it really mattered as she went on, "Anyway, I couldn't find the words then, but by the time I came back to explain, which was only a couple of hours later, by the way, you'd already hopped into her bed! So obviously, you didn't really care about _me_ at all, only sex!"

"That's not true!" he growled, shooting to his feet to pace back and forth angrily, before he stopped abruptly, blowing out a breath in exasperation and turning back to her. "If sex was all I wanted, there are plenty of other very attractive women around Kirkwall for that, as you may have noticed. And if you must know, until we kissed, I hadn't touched a woman since I came here!"

"Then why?" _Why me?_ But more importantly – "Why turn to Isabela so soon?!"

He threw up his hands. "Because I thought I'd lost my chance with you! You said no, and I was drunk, and she asked, and I thought that if you didn't want me anymore, then I might as well be with someone who did!"

"And you couldn't have waited another bloody hour or two to find out differently?" She was horrified to feel angry tears stinging at her eyes, and sternly ordered herself not to cry. This whole ridiculous situation wasn't worth it, no matter how frustrated she might be.

"I was drunk, all right?" He looked suddenly deflated, sinking down in his chair again. "I wasn't thinking clearly enough to realize that I wanted to try again with you, that I wanted to find out what happened. When I'd sobered up more and realized that's what I wanted, I left Isabela's room right away and . . . that's when you saw us. And if it helps, I haven't touched her since then, either."

"So that's your excuse?" she demanded coolly, ruthlessly squashing down the part of her that was happy to hear he hadn't continued to be with Isabela. It still didn't make up for the fact that he _had_ been with her. "You were drunk and then decided you'd had your fun with Isabela and why not give it another go with me?"

"No," he sighed, looking exasperated as he ran his hand through his hair again. "You're making it sound . . . look. Things are different at home. There, if you think somebody is attractive, you just ask if they want to . . . have sex with you, unless they're already mated to someone, of course, and they say yes or no and that's the end of it. If they say no, or if the two of you have decided you're no longer interested, you move on and no one's offended or upset or anything. I thought . . . you said no, and that was the end of it. I moved on to someone who said yes, just like I would have back home. I didn't know you . . . didn't really mean no, or I wouldn't have done it. Drunk or not."

"Well, you're not at home, are you?" she snapped, still feeling angry and yet confused at the same time, and unsure how to properly deal with either, except to lash out at the cause of her hurt that she'd tried so hard to ignore the last couple of days. "You never thought it might be entirely different here? Or that you should maybe _ask_ before you go ahead and assume things? And if you thought that was the end of it, why did you suddenly decide you wanted to try again?"

"Because, I – there was something that was – " he trailed off, shaking his head, and she frowned, wondering what he'd been about to say before he went on, "Never mind. Look, I apologize for hurting you. I really do. I do care about you, and I never meant that to happen, and I wish I could take it back, but I can't. But I'm also not going to keep apologizing for not understanding how things work here when you didn't explain anything to me. And yes, I could have asked . . . but you could have told me, too. How was I supposed to know what to ask, what rules to follow, when I only had my own frame of reference to work with, and know little to nothing about your world?"

Brianna sighed, shaking her head. She didn't even know what to think anymore. Neither the anger nor the confusion were going away, especially since he sounded so reasonable, and her head was starting to spin because of it. There was a part of her that thought that maybe he wasn't entirely wrong, but there were other, louder parts that were still quite angry at him, and thought that if being together was going to be this complicated, maybe it just wasn't worth it. Especially when it obviously wasn't going to be anything lasting, judging from his repeated talk of moving on to the next woman, and his culture's obviously flippant attitude towards relationships. Perhaps this whole situation with Isabela was a sign from the Maker that despite the attraction between them that she could feel even now, buried beneath her anger at him, this just wasn't meant to be for them.

"Look," she said at last, standing up, "maybe we're just too different in our approach to relationships. This . . . shouldn't be this hard, and I don't want things to be awkward between us all the time, or for us to be angry at each other like this. So I'm going to forget this ever happened, and I suggest you do too. We'll just be companions from now on, and that's it. That's all." She said the last firmly, meeting his gaze steadily. She thought she caught a flash of something in his eyes, some emotion she couldn't quite identify, before his expression went blank again.

He nodded slowly. "If you don't want me in your bed or touching you, that's fine. But I still want to help. Whatever you need me to do, just tell me and I'll do it. You don't even have to ask. That's what I'm here for." He hesitated for a moment before adding, "I promise I won't ever bring this up again as long as you promise to send for me every time you have a job. Is that a deal?"

She studied him for a moment, surprised at the selfless and clearly sincere offer, wishing she knew just what he was thinking before she nodded. "It's a deal. But . . . why do you want to help so badly? Just because it's supposed to be your destiny?"

"It's partly that," he agreed. "I have a destiny here and I want to fulfill it. But it's also that you need help and I can help, and I want to. That's all."

Just when she thought she had him figured out, he went and surprised her with something like this, she thought. She could tell he meant it, through and through, that he just wanted to help, and that warmed her in a way she hadn't expected. But they were just companions, and that was all they would ever be, she reminded herself. That was what she'd decided, after all. "Then, thank you. I really appreciate it," she told him before she headed for the door, desperately needing some time to herself now to think, to clear her still-whirling head.

"You're welcome. And don't avoid the Hanged Man on my account, okay?" he added as she reached the door. "We'll just go back to the way it was before, right?"

She looked back at him, nodding after a moment. "Right. Then I might see you there later tonight. Good night, Mardin."

"Good night, Brianna," he replied softly as she closed the door firmly behind her.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You screwed it up, didn't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Mardin said evenly, ignoring Isabela as he took his ale from Corff, thanking him.

"Of course you do." She smacked him on the shoulder as she sat down next to him at the bar. "Hawke was finally here tonight, but she sat about as far away from you as she could get instead of next to you, and neither one of you was really looking at the other. I thought I told you to wait until I talked to her?"

Mardin took a long drink from the ale, wondering if Isabela would go away if he continued to ignore her. She was right; he had screwed it up. When she made no move to leave after a long moment of silence, he sighed and gave in. "It had been more than two days, and last night when we were on a job together, she seemed like she wasn't really mad anymore. I thought I could convince her myself."

"And how did that go for you?" Isabela asked as she signalled Corff for a drink of her own.

"Not well, obviously." Mardin gave her the basics of what had happened, that they'd argued and Brianna had decided in the end to pretend the whole thing had never happened, and seemed determined that nothing ever would. When he'd told her that it was fine if she didn't want him touching her, he'd lied, obviously. But he'd realized on that job last night that, more than anything else, Brianna needed a good second. If that was all she wanted him to be, he would deal with it, and his attraction to her. Their destiny was far more important than who he got to mate with. If his urges got to be too much, he would simply have to go to Isabela, or find another willing woman in Kirkwall somewhere. The idea held strangely little appeal, however. He pushed the thought aside; there was nothing he could do about it now. He didn't want Brianna pushing him away or refusing to use his help if he made things too awkward for her, so he would respect her wishes and ignore his own, for the sake of destiny. That was his responsibility, his duty, and his duty always came first.

"See, I told you," Isabela said when he'd finished the explanation. "There are some things that can only be properly explained by another woman, and you clearly explained things badly. Not to worry, handsome, I'll fix it." She patted him on the shoulder.

"Isabela, no," he told her sternly. "This is what she wants, and I'm going to respect that. Just leave it alone. Besides, I doubt she'll agree to talk to you, anyway." Brianna had barely looked at Isabela tonight either, nor spoken a word to her unless it was necessary.

Isabela snorted. "This is what she _thinks_ she wants. Fereldans wouldn't know what they wanted if it bit them on the ass. Especially if it bit them on the ass. Don't you worry, I've got it all figured out. I'll just have a little chat with Hawke, and when it's done, if she still decides that this is what she wants, then I'll leave it alone. But I'm sure I can convince her otherwise. As I said, I'm _very_ persuasive. And you're too pretty to look so sad." She patted him on the cheek before grabbing her drink from Corff and sashaying away before Mardin could reply.

Not, he mused as he took another drink, that he really knew what to say. Isabela seemed determined to talk to Brianna no matter what he said, and he didn't really know how he could stop her. He just hoped she didn't make things any worse, for he sincerely doubted that she was going to make things any better, no matter what she said about being persuasive. So long as Brianna didn't end up hating him or making him leave, he could deal with anything else, he told himself. He had to, for his duty was all he had left anymore.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Brianna frowned at the mysterious letter. Whoever had wrote it said that they didn't dare contact her directly, but would like to be indulged in a meeting outside the city. Apparently the meeting involved enlisting her aid in a delicate task with the lives of many innocents being involved. A map of the Wounded Coast had been included with the letter. The whole thing sounded very suspicious, but if there _were_ innocent lives involved, she could hardly say no. Besides which, it sounded like a job, and the expedition was only a week away. She was still a few sovereigns short of what she needed, and there had been no jobs over the last three days. It wasn't something she could turn down. She tucked the map in her pocket, deciding that she might as well check it out, though she would obviously bring help first.

She went through the rest of her mail; the only other thing of note was a letter from Varric, asking her to stop by today to discuss the expedition. She decided to go to the Hanged Man first; she could find out what Varric wanted and, once they were done, ask him to come along to this mysterious meeting with her. After that, they could head to Hightown and get the others, for she didn't doubt that Carver would be at the mansion, training as he was nearly every day. It kept him busy when they had nothing else to do, just as training with Anders kept her busy, and it seemed to be good for him, in any case.

But today, she actually had something to do, she thought as she finished up breakfast. Which was a bit of a relief; sometimes there was only so much of Anders and making potions and practicing healing spells she could take. A little excitement would be just what she needed; she only hoped the strange invitation wasn't _too_ much excitement.

She headed for the Hanged Man as soon as she'd finished her breakfast, and up to the second floor where Varric kept his suite of rooms. He was seated at the long table when she entered, a pile of papers in front of him as normal, but he looked up when she came in with a smile. "Hawke! How is my favourite mage? You got my letter, I assume?"

"I did," she replied with a smile. "Is there some new information about the expedition?"

"No, same old." Varric waved his hand. "I just wanted to check if you were all set, had all the money and know who you're bringing along, that sort of thing. Junior seems determined to come."

Brianna sighed, sitting down at the chair to Varric's left. "I know. I still haven't decided if I'm bringing him along or not. He'd never forgive me if I didn't, but Mother will never forgive me if I do, so . . ." she shrugged, and Varric chuckled. "Family," he agreed.

"As for the money, I almost have enough, but I'm still a few sovereigns short. Which is the other reason I'm here. I think I have a job out on the Wounded Coast, and I'd thought I'd see if you could come," she finished, and Varric nodded.

"Of course, Hawke, always happy to tag along on your latest adventure, you know that," the dwarf replied. "But first, there's someone else who wants to talk with you." He gestured to the door into his room, and Brianna looked over, frowning in confusion.

She was not expecting to see Isabela walk through the door, grinning at her. "Hawke! Just the mage I wanted to see!" the pirate exclaimed.

"Isabela, nice to see you." _I guess_. Brianna gave the pirate the best smile she could muster up, still feeling awkward at the sight of her, knowing what had happened between her and Mardin. She turned to Varric, raising her eyebrows in silent question.

Varric shrugged. "Rivaini wanted to talk to you, and you've been doing your best to avoid her, so I agreed to help." He hopped off his chair, heading for the door. "I'll be waiting downstairs when you're done. Don't kill each other. Or wreck my stuff."

"Did Mardin tell you what happened?" Brianna hissed as Varric walked by her, for he obviously knew that she had a reason to be mad at Isabela, judging by what he'd just said.

Varric stopped by her chair. "He did. He said the two of you kissed, there was some kind of misunderstanding, he screwed up with Rivaini there and he regrets it. And Rivaini said she wanted to talk to you, and since I lost the bet, I had to help." He shrugged. "Sorry for the ambush, Hawke, but it's probably best to clear the air all around, right?" Without waiting for her answer, he headed for the door again.

Brianna sat in shock for a moment at the sudden turn of events before a thought struck her, and she turned to yell after Varric, "Don't you dare write any of this down!"

Varric turned to her at the door, an affronted look on his face as he put a hand to his chest. "Now, Hawke, would I do something like that?"

"Yes," she muttered, but he'd already closed the door, leaving her alone with Isabela. Brianna turned back to her, wondering just what it was that the pirate wanted to talk to her about – and if it was even worth listening to.


	10. Act of Mercy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brianna and Isabela finally have a talk; afterwards Brianna takes Varric and the others on a mission to the Wounded Coast, where they discover the Templar Thrask awaiting them. He requests their help with an escaped group of mages, and they must decide how far they will go to help.

Chapter 10: Act of Mercy

"Well?" Brianna demanded coolly when Isabela didn't immediately say anything. "What is it that you're so determined to talk about that you got Varric to help you ambush me?"

Isabela gave a low whistle as she flopped down in Varric's vacated chair. "I can see where you earned that reputation of yours, Hawke." When Brianna merely raised her eyebrows at her in response, Isabela sighed and leaned back in the rather throne-like chair. "Well, firstly, I wanted to apologize. If I'd known that you and Mardin were involved, I wouldn't have trespassed. There are a lot of things I like to do, but that's not one of them."

Brianna frowned, shaking her head as she immediately denied, "You weren't trespassing."

"No?" Isabela replied skeptically, raising her eyebrows in turn. "Because you've certainly been acting like I did."

Brianna blinked as she considered the pirate's words. Perhaps she _had_ been treating things as though she had some sort of claim to Mardin and Isabela was the "other woman". She hadn't really meant it that way, however. "I suppose I have been, a bit," she conceded. "I wasn't really avoiding you because I was mad at you. Or not completely, anyway. It was mostly just awkward for me, knowing that you'd been with him. But I'll try not to let that bother me anymore. Was that all?"

"No." Isabela shook her head, meeting Brianna's gaze steadily. "I also think you're being a little hard on Mardin."

"What?!" Brianna snapped, her previous feeling of forgiveness for Isabela disappearing in a wash of anger. "But he –"

"Yes, yes, I know all about it," Isabela interrupted her, waving her hand. "I don't need to hear the details again. He screwed up, it's true. But you also hurt him."

"I did not!" Brianna scowled at her, struggling to control the rising tide of anger in her. "When did I ever hurt him? He's the one that hurt me!"

"He did," Isabela agreed with a nod, "after you'd hurt him." She held up her hand to halt the flow of angry words Brianna was about to unleash. "Just hold on, and let me explain. I know he would never have told you this, because men have their pride, after all. But when you rejected him and ran from him, like he was a demon, as he put it, he was hurt. I could see it when he was telling me about it. It's why he was drowning himself in drink here that night when I found him. Honestly, given the swill Corff gave him and the nearly empty bottle, I'm surprised he wasn't passed out already. So, yes, when he was hurt, and drunk, he made a bad decision. People tend to do that. He thought he'd done something wrong, or terrified you somehow. And just look at him. He's obviously never been told no by a woman in his life before – especially not one that was already kissing him. It's not surprising he reacted badly the first time he had a taste of rejection."

Brianna sat back, a little deflated at Isabela's explanation. It had honestly never occurred to her to think that she'd hurt him. He always seemed so self-possessed and confident, she wouldn't have even thought it was possible for her to hurt him. But hearing that he'd said she'd run from him like he was a demon, she realized why he might have felt that way. Demon was one of the terms Saemus had used to refer to Mardin when he had seen his shifting abilities, and she didn't doubt other people had used it to describe Mardin as well. She was sure he was used to people running from him in terror, shouting that he was a demon. And she had been terrified when she had run from him, too; just not of him. She'd been terrified of her own feelings, but she hadn't explained that to him at the time. Still, even if he had been hurt – "That doesn't excuse what he did," she told Isabela firmly.

Isabela shrugged. "Maybe not, at least not completely. But it does make it easier to understand why he would have acted the way he did, doesn't it? If he thought you were terrified of him, he certainly wouldn't have been thinking that you'd be angry with him for being with me, right?"

"I suppose not," Brianna admitted after a moment. He'd probably thought that the rough way he'd kissed her had scared her, she realized, remembering how he'd said something about her making it clear she didn't want him touching her. That wasn't what she'd meant at all, but she could see how he might have mistakenly viewed it that way, and how he might have wanted to turn to somebody else that wasn't frightened of his attentions. She didn't think that was enough to make her forgive him, however. Especially not if he'd gone and discussed all their personal affairs with Isabela. "Why exactly did he tell you, anyway?" she demanded. "And why do you care?"

Isabela sighed. "Oh, don't go and be mad at him for talking to me, too. I don't think he really wanted to confide in me, but I heard him cursing and breaking the wall after you spotted us together and asked him what was going on. And who else was he going to confide in, or explain to him what he'd done wrong? It sounds like he's pretty new to Kirkwall, and everybody he knows are your friends too, right? Besides, I'm pretty sure he didn't give me all the details. Just that he'd flirted with you, the two of you finally kissed, and then you ran off before coming back and seeing us together."

Brianna was relieved to hear that it sounded like he'd not said a word to Isabela about her being jealous of the other woman, nor did it sound like he'd given details on just how intimate that kiss had gotten. At least he had some sense of privacy, it would seem. And Isabela did have a point; Mardin was a stranger to their world, not just Kirkwall, and knew nobody here except Brianna's companions and her own brother, all of whom had known her longer. And _she_ still hadn't felt like she could confide in any of them about what had happened, so why would he feel like he could? She hadn't realized before now just how lonely it must be for Mardin here, especially as he'd yet to meet with his sister, the only person in this world he'd known for longer than a couple of months. She could see why he'd decided to confide in Isabela, who was probably the most neutral party he knew. "All right," she said with a sigh, "I won't be mad at him for talking to you. I still don't see why you care about what happens between us, though."

"Because, like I said to Mardin when he asked me the same thing, if neither one of you are going to have fun with me, you might as well be having fun with each other. Unless _you're_ willing to have fun with me, in which case, you can forget about this whole thing and we can go to my room right now. What do you say?" Isabela grinned wickedly at her.

Brianna laughed in spite of herself, shaking her head at the pirate's offer. "Thank you, but no. I'm afraid I'm not interested in other women that way."

"Ah, I see," Isabela sighed dramatically. "Your loss, then. You're missing out on half of the fun you could be having. Not that cocks aren't a lot of fun, too, but so are –"

"Yes, yes, I'm sure they are," Brianna interrupted hastily, not really wanting to hear how the pirate had planned to finish that sentence. "Anyway, what did you mean about neither one of us having fun with you? Are things really over between you and Mardin?"

"Honestly, Hawke, it was just the once. As soon as he'd sobered up a little more, he turned down my offer for a second round and left. That's when you saw us together. And . . . he wanted it to be you. I didn't know who he was wishing I was while it was happening, but I could tell it wasn't really me he wanted. I can always tell." Isabela almost looked sad as she said this, before she went on brusquely, "Anyway, after I'd talked to him and found out what happened, I told him getting another chance with you was likely going to be hard, and offered him free use of my bed if he'd rather have it easy. He said no."

"He did? Why?" Brianna was shocked at this latest revelation; she'd accused Mardin of only wanting sex, of not caring about her or whether he was with her or not, and she'd sincerely believed that at the time. Yet if that were true, why would he turn down such an offer with the gorgeous pirate?

"Oh, that idiot," Isabela groaned. "Did he really not tell you?"

"Not tell me _what_?"

"Men," Isabela muttered, shaking her head. "He said, and I quote, 'There was something different about kissing her, and I want to know what it was'."

Brianna gaped at her, shocked. What exactly was different? And why hadn't he said that to her himself? "Why didn't he tell me that?" she exclaimed.

"Because he's an idiot who has no idea what he's doing when it comes to sweet-talking a woman?" Isabela said with obvious exasperation. "I thought he would've at least been smart enough to tell you _that_."

"Well, I don't know if it would have made a difference," Brianna said at last, trying to work through how she felt about Isabela's statement, other than confused. "What does that even mean, 'there was something different'?"

Isabela studied her for a moment. "Have you been with other men, Hawke?"

"Yes, I have," Brianna replied, a little embarrassed, but also wondering what the pirate was getting at.

"Well, did anything about kissing him feel different than kissing them?" Isabela prompted.

"Well, yes," Brianna said slowly. "With the others, it was pleasant and enjoyable, but it wasn't as . . ." she trailed off, unsure how to describe it.

"Mind-blowing?" Isabela supplied, and Brianna nodded, reluctantly.

"That . . . was one of the reasons I ran. It was overwhelming, and I was afraid of losing control, being a mage and all," she admitted, not entirely sure why she was confiding in Isabela too. Perhaps it was easier because Isabela already knew most of what had happened, and obviously wasn't the type to be judgmental about it.

Isabela nodded. "I thought that whole mage thing might be one of the reasons. Anyway, believe me when I tell you, that 'something different' is very rare. I've been with a lot of men and women and never found one that felt different. I've only heard of it from other people, so it would be a bloody shame if you just let it go to waste."

"I don't know if that's enough to make me give him another chance, though." Brianna leaned back in her own chair, drumming her fingers on the table as she tried to think. "I mean, I'm not sure I can just enter into some short little fling just because it might be 'mind-blowing', as you put it, without any intention of it being something serious one day. And I don't think he knows how to do anything but that."

"Well, I'm going to tell you two things that should help you decide, then I'll leave you alone." Isabela propped her feet up on the table, one booted foot over the other. "One, if a guy like that is already turning down 'short little flings' because he feels something different with you, he's already in deeper than he realizes. Two, and this one comes from my grandmother, who's a very smart lady, when you're old and about to die, it's not the things you did that you regret. It's the ones that you didn't do. And the couple of times I've had my life flash before my eyes, I have to admit she's been right. So, just think about that before you decide to write off the mind-blowing sex completely, just because it might not last long." Isabela winked at her.

"Those are some good points," Brianna conceded, "but I'm not sure they'll help me to forgive him."

"If the apology wasn't enough, make him work for it," Isabela replied simply. "Make him grovel if you want. Just make sure you tell him _how_ he's supposed to make it up to you. Subtle hints don't usually work on men. You'll have to spell it out."

"I'll think about it," Brianna told her, standing up. Isabela had actually made some surprisingly good points, but she needed more time to think on the pros and cons of changing the decision she'd made about him, and whether she could actually forgive him enough to consider him as a potential lover again, and not just as a friend. The idea of establishing some conditions with him to find out if it was worth giving him a second chance wasn't a bad one, however, and was one she'd have to consider carefully. Right now, though, she had a job to do, and she'd put it off long enough already while talking to Isabela. "I can't promise I'll change my mind, but I can promise I'll at least give it some thought."

"Great!" Isabela bounded to her feet and stuck out her hand, which Brianna shook after a moment's hesitation. "That's good enough for me. And don't let all this discourage you from asking me for help. I owe you a debt for helping me out with Hayder, and I want to repay it."

"Fair enough," Brianna agreed. She was actually finding that she didn't dislike the pirate, in spite of all that had happened, and that it might be enjoyable to have her around on occasion, now that she didn't find it so awkward to talk to her. "I don't think I'll need your help on this particular job, but I'll keep you in mind for any future ones. After the expedition, anyway. I don't think you'll want to come to the Deep Roads."

"Varric told me about that." Isabela wrinkled her nose. "No thanks. I like treasure as much as the next pirate, but I'd rather avoid the darkspawn and being stuck below ground. Not being on a ship on the open water is bad enough."

Brianna nodded. "Then I'll let you know when I get back if I've got any work for you."

"Just make sure you all come back alive," Isabela called over her shoulder as she reached the door out of Varric's room. "I want to see that treasure."

Brianna grinned as she followed the pirate to the door. "Don't worry, if I find any, I'll make sure to brag about it."

"See that you do," Isabela said before heading further down the hallway towards the other rooms, presumably going back to her own room.

Brianna took the left turn out of Varric's rooms instead, heading towards the stairs that led down to the tavern itself. When she reached the bottom she spotted Varric sitting alone at a table off to the right, drinking from a mug of ale. She crossed over to him.

Varric set his drink down and looked up at her. "No visible bloodstains and I don't see smoke coming from the stairway, so I'm guessing my room isn't on fire. It must have gone well, then?"

Brianna rolled her eyes. "Did you honestly think I was going to try to kill her, Varric?"

Varric shrugged, grinning at her. "One never knows with women. A fight would've been better story material, though."

Brianna crossed her arms over her chest, glaring down at him. "I thought you weren't going to write this down?"

Varric held his hands up in defense, looking the picture of innocence, not that Brianna believed it for a second. "Of course not, Hawke! It was merely an observation!"

"I'm sure," she drawled. "Anyway, we should get going to the mansion and get some more help for this job. The note says innocent lives are at stake."

"Aren't they always?" Varric said, but he followed her as she headed out the door of the Hanged Man, regardless.

"How long have you known?" Brianna asked hesitantly, once they were outside and heading towards the stairs to Hightown, not quite able to bring herself to look at Varric.

"Since the night after we rescued that Feynriel kid. You'd finally come back to play Wicked Grace, but you were acting off, and so was Red." Varric must have caught the alarmed look on her face, because he quickly added, "He didn't go blurting it out to everyone after you left, Hawke, don't worry. He stayed at the bar drinking after the others had all left too, seemed pretty depressed, actually. So I pestered him about it until he finally told me what happened. You know I can never resist a good story. And then Rivaini came to me the next day asking if I'd help get you to talk to her. What _did_ the two of you talk about, anyway?"

"Nope. No way." Brianna shook her head firmly. "You know too much about it already, and I _don't_ want you writing any of it down."

"Aw, come on, Hawke, curiosity killed the dwarf!" Varric protested, looking up at her pleadingly when she finally looked down at him.

Brianna felt amusement trying to melt the stern look she was going for, but she did her best to hold on to it as she shook her head. "In your case, that will probably be true one day, but it's still a no."

Varric heaved a sigh. "Fine." Brianna thought she caught him mumbling something that sounded like "make it up myself" but they had just passed a large group of giggling noblewomen at the top of the Hightown stairs, so she couldn't be sure, and decided to let it pass.

There were a few minutes of silence between them as they made their way through the streets towards the mansion, and Brianna finally broke it by saying in a low voice, "I didn't tell you myself because I thought the whole thing was kind of embarrassing." Varric was probably her best friend after Aveline, and she thought he deserved at least a little bit of an explanation as to why she hadn't confided in him. Besides the obvious, of course. "I didn't actually tell anybody."

"Not to worry, Hawke." He patted her on the arm in sympathy. "I won't tell any of the others, and I figured if you wanted to talk about it, you would. You know you can talk to me about things if you need to, though. I promise to be good and not publish any of the really embarrassing stuff." He put his hand over his heart dramatically as he met her eyes.

She couldn't help but laugh at that as she said dryly, "I appreciate your restraint." After another moment, she added softly, "And thanks, Varric."

"Anytime, Hawke."

They had reached the door to the mansion by then, and Varric pounded on it with his fist. The door was wrenched open almost immediately by Fenris, whose look of mild panic was replaced with one of annoyance as he saw Varric. "I should have known it was _you_ , dwarf." He looked over at Brianna, nodding to her. "Hawke."

"Fenris," she replied, slightly amused as Varric said at almost the same time, "Nice to see you, too, Broody."

Carver and Mardin had appeared behind Fenris at this point, and Carver wiped sweat off his forehead as he asked a bit breathlessly, "You found a job?"

"Sounds like it," Brianna answered with a nod, relaying the contents of the note to them and handing Carver the map of the Coast showing the meeting spot.

"Sounds ominous," Mardin observed. "Could be a trap."

"It could be," Brianna agreed, "but we're still a few sovereigns short for the expedition, and it's next week, so . . ."

"We need the money," Carver finished for her.

"Right. Shall we go, then?" Brianna asked, mainly for Fenris's benefit, as Mardin had said she didn't have to ask him, and she had never left Carver behind while going on a job, either.

All three of them nodded in response, however, and in a few short minutes, they were on their way, Carver in the lead again with the map.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It took a few hours for them to finally arrive at the meeting spot marked on the map of the Wounded Coast, so that it was nearly noon when they arrived, the sun shining high above them out of a cloudless blue sky. It was also stiflingly hot, too, Mardin thought as he wiped more sweat off his forehead and neck. There wasn't much of a breeze to help alleviate the heat today, making him wish longingly that they could go jump in the ocean rather than trek along the coast. He knew they couldn't, of course, not if there really were innocent lives at stake, and so he kept his thoughts to himself, including the unbidden one of what Brianna might look like if they went swimming in the nude. It was not something he was ever likely to see, now, and so there was no use in dwelling on it.

"This must be it," Carver said, interrupting Mardin's thoughts as he pointed to a small, rocky outcropping in the midst of a sandy clearing ahead of them.

"Let's go find out who we're meeting, then." Brianna strode out ahead of Carver, and Mardin hurried after her along with the others, mindful of the fact that this could be a trap.

Once they had reached the outcropping, however, and the man they were meeting stepped out of the shadows of the entrance to a cave, Mardin knew it wasn't. The older man with the red hair and short beard in the heavy silver plate armor awaiting them was Thrask, the Templar he had met a few days ago when he had delivered Feynriel to the Circle for Brianna along with Varric and Fenris. Mardin had known as soon as he'd met the man that the rumours of his kindness were true; that this man was the first trustworthy Templar he'd met since his arrival in Kirkwall. Of course, the only other one he'd met had been that Varnell who had accompanied Sister Petrice, so it wasn't like he'd had good comparisons so far. "Serah Trichlor," Thrask said with a nod.

"Ser Thrask," Mardin replied with a nod of his own. "It was you that sent the note, then?"

"Indeed. You had spoken highly of Mistress Hawke, as did your companions and many others; I thought it best to enlist her help in this matter. You must be Mistress Hawke," he continued, turning to Brianna who had tensed up at the realization they were meeting a Templar. "I was unaware you were a mage."

Mardin tensed up himself at those words, his hand straying almost involuntarily to his sword hilt as Brianna said evenly, "Will that be a problem?"

"Not for me," Thrask answered after a moment, shaking his head. "You have done much good for the citizens of Kirkwall, and will hopefully do the same here. In this case, it would do more harm than good to bring you in, and so I will pretend ignorance of your apostate status."

Mardin relaxed at those words, as did Brianna, who nodded at Thrask in appreciation. "Glad to hear it. What did you call us here for?"

"So much for not attracting Templar attention," Carver muttered under his breath, still looking a little anxious as his eyes flitted back and forth between Brianna and Thrask.

"At least this is good Templar attention," Mardin whispered back. "He's not going to turn Brianna in, and he'll owe us a favour after this, right?"

"I suppose," Carver answered dubiously, and Brianna glared back at them, shushing them as Thrask began to speak.

"There are a number of apostates hiding in those caverns," Ser Thrask explained, gesturing to the open cave mouth behind him. "I was hoping you might speak to the group, convince them to surrender peacefully before my fellow Templars arrive. As a Templar under Meredith, I am unable to show them any kindness. You are not so limited."

Brianna frowned, darting a glance to the cave mouth herself. "Who exactly are these apostates? Did they escape the Kirkwall Circle?"

Thrask shook his head. "They did not. These are the mages of the former Circle at Starkhaven. It burned to the ground and their Templars sent for us to relocate the survivors. Unfortunately, they escaped on the journey. With their phylacteries burned, it has been nearly impossible to track them."

"But you found them," Brianna supplied, and as Thrask nodded in return, she continued, "And you believe that your fellow Templars aren't interested in being peaceful?"

Thrask looked distinctly uncomfortable now, Mardin noted as the Templar replied, "Ser Karras is a knight-lieutenant of the Templars, a great crony of Meredith. Should he find apostates hiding from pursuit, Meredith will consider him justified in murdering the lot of them."

Mardin scowled at Thrask's revelation; he'd heard some disturbing rumours about the Templars in Kirkwall over the last few weeks, but he had hoped they were only exaggerated. To hear otherwise from Thrask was alarming, and he vowed to keep a closer eye on his mage companions. He would not allow the Templars to take any of them, not Anders, not Merrill, and most especially not Brianna. It appeared that it would be far too dangerous to allow any of them to fall into this Meredith's clutches; he might never see them alive again were that to happen, and that was a thought too alarming to contemplate.

Carver was frowning as if he was thinking the same thing, his fists clenched tight as he asked warily, "Is Meredith really that bad?"

"She is a . . . stern Knight-Commander, to say the least," Thrask answered carefully. "Her distrust of mages runs deep, and so she has changed the rules for mages in Kirkwall. They are less free than in other Circles. She believes this to be best, but I daresay she has created as much dissent as obedience." Before any of them could reply, Thrask turned to Brianna. "At any rate, these mages have shown they attack Templars on sight. You have a better chance than I to convince them they are better off alive in the Circle than free and dead. Ser Karras hunts them as well. If they have not surrendered by the time he arrives with the others, this will be a blood bath."

Brianna glanced back the way they'd come, and Mardin followed her gaze; he did not see any sign that anyone had followed them from Kirkwall just yet. "Do you expect him to arrive soon?" Brianna asked.

"Likely within a few hours, Mistress Hawke. It would be best if you hurried."

Brianna nodded. "Let's get going, then." She headed for the cave entrance, and Mardin and the others followed her. Mardin almost had to turn sideways to squeeze through the narrow gap that passed for the cave entrance, but fortunately the passageway opened up a bit more after they'd gone a few feet. They all halted for a moment to allow their eyes to adjust to the dim light inside the cave, a stark contrast to the blinding sun outside.

"Do you really think this is such a good idea, Hawke?" Varric asked as they waited. "What if they refuse to come along and decide to attack us?"

Brianna sighed. "I'm hoping it won't come to that. They may be more willing to listen to a fellow mage. And if any of them are willing to come along peacefully, I can't allow this Karras to slaughter them."

"Then we need to get moving before he gets here," Carver prompted, waving towards the winding tunnel that Mardin could finally make out ahead of them. It looked rather similar to the smugglers' cave they had found Feynriel in, only narrower. "Do you still remember the spell Father taught you?" Carver went on.

"I do." Brianna nodded. "Now that I know there are Templars here, I'll make sure to use it. It's a spell to conceal my magic from Templars and hide my identity," she explained when Mardin raised his eyebrows in question. "Father used it frequently to keep us safe from the Templars when we were younger, and made sure Bethany and I learned how as well. If I had known we were meeting a Templar here, I would already have used it."

"I'm glad to hear it," Mardin told her as they began moving down the tunnel. "That should make things easier if we haven't managed to leave before Karras arrives."

Brianna nodded, but before she could say anything further, the sounds of rattling bones and clanking metal interrupted her as they came around a bend in the tunnel which opened up into a larger chamber. The torchlight burning on the walls illuminated skeletons emerging from the ground at their feet, shambling towards them with rusted weapons held high.

"What in the bloody Blight are these?" Carver exclaimed as he blocked the swing of a sword from one of the corpses, similar to the ones they had fought on Sundermount. "The mages raised the dead?"

Fenris sprang past him, separating the head of another corpse from its body, causing it to fall in a heap of fleshy bones at his feet. "Mages will always resort to the forbidden if they feel enough need," he declared darkly.

Mardin rolled his eyes as he beheaded a corpse of his own; in general he liked the elf, broody though he might be, but his unwavering prejudice towards mages was growing rather annoying. Brianna clearly thought so too as she snapped, "Excuse me, Fenris? Do you think _I_ would resort to blood magic?"

"Perhaps not, Hawke," Fenris murmured as she blasted the heads off two more corpses, fury written starkly across her face. "But there are few mages with your strength of will."

"There are more than you think," Brianna shot back as they continued to battle the dozen or so corpses remaining.

"Broody, Hawke, how about less fighting each other and more fighting these things?" Varric grunted as he loaded Bianca, firing a bolt into the skull of another corpse.

Both of them nodded tightly in reply, and the remainder of the fight was finished without further comment from anyone. Once the corpses were all down, Mardin took point in case they were attacked again, leading the way through twisted passageways in the rocky cavern, up crumbling man-made stairs and past abandoned fire pits here and there. Moss and other stunted plants littered the cave floor and walls, along with rusted tools that indicated people had once mined here. The further in they went, the more Mardin felt a sense of increasing danger. Thrask may not have set a trap for them, but he didn't think all of the mages would be willing to go quietly.

This was proven true when they ran across a mage in another cramped cavern who raised more corpses from the ground around him as soon as he saw them, attacking them with a fire spell immediately after as the corpses shambled towards them. Brianna faced off against the mage, countering his spells with her own, while Mardin and the others rid the cavern of the freshly raised corpses. By the time the last corpse had fallen, Brianna had taken the mage down as well.

The smell of the dead was so overwhelming in the small cavern that Mardin wasn't surprised to see that he'd missed the presence of another mage, as a young dark-skinned mage in purple and gold robes with a deep hood emerged shakily from a shadowed corner of the cavern. "Are you with the Templars? Please, I need to go back to the Circle," he begged as he stopped cautiously a few feet away from their party. "I never wanted to get involved in this. Not when he started making those . . . those things!" He gestured wildly at the corpses littering the ground around them.

Brianna stepped forward, saying softly, "Ser Thrask has sent us to offer a peaceful resolution, yes. Now who exactly is 'he'?"

"Decimus . . . it was his decision," the young mage said unhappily. "He kept saying the Templars would label us blood mages if we fled – why not use it if it's our best tool?"

"Typical excuse," Fenris growled.

Brianna shot a glare at him, but before she could say anything further, the mage went on, "He slit his wrist, and the magic . . . it rose from the blood and woke the skeletons in the cave. I ran. Decimus is wrong – blood magic is a work of evil, not just a power the Templars keep from us for spite!"

"You're right," Brianna agreed when the boy had finished. "Now, is Decimus the leader of these mages? Tell me about him."

"He's crazy. He said, with our phylacteries gone, no one could find us. We would be free . . ." The young mage darted a glance over his shoulder at the rickety wooden steps that led up to the next cavern, continuing in a whisper, "I think maybe he set the fire that destroyed the Circle. There must be a demon working through him. No normal man would profane the dead like this."

Brianna sighed. "I hope not. Listen, the Templar Thrask is waiting outside. He is a kind man, and if you surrender to him, you won't be hurt."

"I surrender!" The young man exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "Take me to the Templars! I don't want anything to do with this . . . blood magic. The rest of them, they're still following Decimus." He pointed behind him again, at the wooden stairs, before adding, "He's gone mad. I think he'd kill us all just to take the Templars down. Please be careful, Serah!"

Without waiting for a reply, the young mage darted past them into the tunnel they'd emerged from, obviously heading for Thrask and the entrance. Mardin turned and watched him go for a moment before looking back at Brianna. "I guess we have to do something about this Decimus," she said at last. "Let's hope that once we defeat him, the other mages will be willing to come along peacefully."

Fenris snorted. "That is extremely unlikely."

Brianna, clearly choosing to ignore him, simply turned and went up the wooden stairs to the next level of the cave, not even bothering to see if they were following her. Mardin cast a glare at Fenris before heading up the stairs himself, followed by the others. They made their way through a few more narrow, winding passageways before they came out into a vast cavern that seemed surprisingly well-lit compared to the rest of the cave they had passed through. Mardin was unsure if it was the numerous torches along the walls or the glowing ball of light surrounding a male mage in the center of the cavern; an older, craggy-faced man with long, greying blonde hair and a shaggy beard, wearing robes that were a mixture of black, red and white. His instincts started clamouring in alarm as soon as he spotted the man, and he knew that this had to be Decimus.

Decimus straightened up as soon as he spotted them, the light around him disappearing; Brianna had halted several feet away from the man and the other mages with him, and Mardin and the others came up to stand with her as Decimus declared, "They're here! The Templars have come to take us back to the Circle!"

"Seriously, do I look like a Templar?" Brianna groaned in exasperation, at the same time as the female mage next to Decimus cried, "Decimus, no! Stay your hand. These are no Templars!"

"What do I care what shield they carry?" Decimus growled, raising his hands, a staff gripped tightly in his right hand. "If they challenge us, the dead themselves will meet the call!"

A flare of magic accompanied the statement, and corpses rose from the ground all around them, far more than Mardin had yet seen. Decimus almost immediately shot a lightning bolt at Brianna, who blocked it with a magic shield of her own before sending a blast back at him, which bounced harmlessly off his own shield. A few other mages around the room began to attack their party as well, though several mages ran into a corner of the cavern, among them the woman who had called for Decimus to stop.

Quickly assessing the situation, Mardin decided shifting was his best bet, and after a moment of concentration, the shift wrenched its way through his body. He lumbered forward towards one of the other mages who was firing spells at Carver, unsure if his teeth or claws would break Decimus's barrier, and swatted the distracted mage with one massive paw. The mage went down with a scream, blood spurting from the claw wounds, and Mardin ripped his throat out with one quick twist of his jaws.

The rest of the fight passed in much the same manner; Mardin swatted the heads off corpses left and right as he moved around the cavern, trying to avoid the blasts of magic. Fenris was attacking Decimus along with Brianna, and Carver and Varric were eliminating the remaining mages and corpses. Shortly before the fight ended, a blast of lightning struck Mardin in the flank, and he roared with the pain of it; his head swam for a moment as his control wavered and the bear nearly took over. He crouched low on the ground, forcing himself to breathe deeply through the pain until he could think clearly once more, and seized upon the opportunity to shift back to human.

By the time he had done so and struggled to his feet, his left leg throbbing with pain, Decimus had fallen; Brianna had broken through his barrier with a powerful fire spell, and with his shield gone, Fenris had seized the mage's heart from his chest and crushed it, causing Decimus to crumble at his feet in a bloody heap. At the same time, Varric and Carver were finishing off the last of the corpses, the other mages having already fallen. Mardin dug in his pouch and produced his last healing potion, downing it all in one go; the pain faded to a manageable level, and he limped his way over to Brianna, who he noted with relief looked to be uninjured.

The others had a few minor scrapes and burns, and all of them drank from their own potions as the female mage from earlier raced over to Decimus's fallen body. "You killed him! Oh, Decimus, you should have listened to me, love . . ." She was a pretty woman, Mardin noted absently as she shook her head in despair, with a tattooed face and dark hair tied in a low ponytail, wearing a light blue robe girdled in gold. He tilted his head, trying to reach beyond his pain and decide what his instincts were saying about her as she lifted her head, her face streaked with tears, and glared at Brianna. "I saw what you are! How could you murder one of your own just for daring to defy the Templars?"

"Actually," Brianna retorted coolly, "it was more the blood magic, raising the dead, and trying to kill me and my friends that I had a problem with."

The woman stood up, pacing back and forth as she shook her head. "I warned him. I told him, once he marked himself as a blood mage, that was all anyone would see."

"Are we supposed to believe that you had no part in his actions?" Fenris demanded, his body tense as he stared at the woman, presumably waiting for any sign that he would need to attack.

The woman shook her head vigorously. "I swear to you, I have had no truck with demons. My name is Grace, and I want only safety and freedom for those of us remaining." She gestured to the handful of other mages that had stayed out of the fight, now gathered behind her with anxious looks on their faces. "Without your help, the Templars will execute us all for Decimus's crimes."

Brianna looked to Mardin, raising her eyebrows in question. He hesitated, having a hard time reading the woman's - Grace's - intentions fully, before he finally whispered in Brianna's ear, "I think she's telling the truth about not being involved in the blood magic. But I do think she's not entirely trustworthy – she could be dangerous if she goes free."

Brianna pursed her lips, nodding in understanding before she turned back to Grace. "What precisely do you intend to do, if you do not return to a Circle?"

"I hear there are places, outside the Free Marches, where the Templars are not so vigilant," the other mage responded quickly. "But if we are to escape, we must first throw off pursuit. There is a Templar who followed us. You must have met him when you entered. Kill him, and we can get clear of Kirkwall before the Templars send more men." Grace's face was hard and set as she said the last, her stance determined as she met Brianna's eyes.

Mardin growled at the woman's words, even as Brianna recoiled in surprise. "What?! We are _not_ killing Ser Thrask! He's the one who brought us here to help you so the other Templars wouldn't just kill you!"

"We are not about to start killing Templars," Carver added. "Especially not the ones that are willing to help."

"But we cannot return to the Circle! You must buy us time to flee Kirkwall!" Grace cried.

"We will not buy you time by murdering a good man," Brianna snapped coldly.

"Then lay down your arms," Grace said with a sigh, nodding at Fenris who had yet to sheathe his sword. "I am trying to save our lives, not throw them away. We will come with you."

Brianna nodded shortly, looking pointedly at Fenris, who reluctantly sheathed his weapon. "We'll make sure the way out is clear," Brianna began, gesturing to Mardin and Carver. "You two stay at the back," she continued, nodding at Fenris and Varric. "Keep an eye on them."

"Gladly," Fenris growled, as Varric added, "Will do, Hawke."

Brianna led the way out of the cave, Mardin sticking to her right side while Carver walked to her left, Grace and the other mages falling in behind them with Fenris and Varric bringing up the rear. Mardin still couldn't quite suppress the pain in his leg, and Brianna noticed the limp almost immediately as they exited the cavern. "Stray lightning bolt," he explained as she looked at his leg questioningly.

"Hold on a minute," she ordered him, halting the whole procession as she laid a glowing blue hand on the side of his leg. A soothing coolness spread throughout his throbbing leg, leaving only a few minor, almost unnoticeable twinges in its wake. "Is it better?" she asked softly, letting her hand drop away.

_Is that concern in her eyes?_ "It's definitely better," he told her. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She hesitated for a moment before adding, "That was the best I can heal it with what magic I have left, especially if I am to use my concealment spell. If there's any pain left, you should see Anders when we get back."

"I'm sure I'll be fine, thank you." She _was_ concerned, Mardin thought with surprise. He doubted that it meant anything, though. She would likely react the same if Varric or anyone else was hurt; there was no use in getting his hopes up that she might be starting to forgive him.

As if sensing his thoughts, she flushed slightly and turned, striding forward through the tunnels again. "We should hurry, before that Karras gets here."

Their trek back to the entrance was uneventful; no more corpses rose from the ground to attack them, and Grace and the other mages remained quiet and subdued, apparently having entirely given up fighting. Brianna stopped briefly in the first cavern they'd entered to cast her concealment spell, and once she'd finished, they continued forward to the last tunnel. They were only a few feet away from the entrance when they heard a sneering voice echoing from up ahead, "Are you saying that there isn't anyone inside? Then where did that apprentice come from?"

"Shit," Varric muttered from the back. "Sounds like we're too late."

"Sounds like it," Brianna agreed with a resigned sigh. "But there's no other exit, so we have no choice."

She kept heading towards the entrance despite Grace's noise of protest, Mardin and Carver keeping pace with her as they heard Thrask answer the other man, "I followed the tracks from the caravan site, but the boy says the others have already left."

"Don't lie, Thrask," the other man snarled in answer. "I know you're soft on the robes. I followed the same tracks and –" At that precise moment, their party rounded the corner and emerged from the entrance of the cave, Grace and the others still trailing reluctantly behind. "What do we have here?" A large man with a shaggy blonde hair and beard on a wide-set face, decked out in the Templar's standard uniform of silver plate, drawled as he spotted them. Several other Templars stood behind the man, a few feet from where he faced off with Thrask.

As soon as Mardin saw him, every fibre in his body screamed for him to kill the man; the hairs rose on the back of his neck and his hand was on his sword hilt before he'd even realized what he was doing. He gripped it tightly, taking deep, steadying breaths, telling himself that he couldn't just kill this Templar in cold blood, not with so many other Templars watching. It was too dangerous; one of the others could get hurt or killed in the ensuing battle, especially as they were already weary from fighting the mages. He halted where he was, ordering himself to calm down as Brianna took a few steps forward, addressing both Thrask and Karras. "The blood mage and all who followed him are dead. These mages agreed to willingly return to the Circle."

"The Circle?" Karras scoffed in disbelief. "As if we would let these demon-worshippers pollute the minds of our mages. No." He shook his head. "Once they've tasted freedom, apostates are good for nothing. Better to silence them now."

"No!" Grace wailed, running up next to Brianna as she pleaded desperately, "And you wonder why we fear them? Please! You must protect us!"

"There's nothing we can do now," Brianna murmured to her, looking torn as she continued, "There's too many of them. Thrask will do what he can to keep you safe. And it's better than becoming an abomination. They deserve a trial," she finished loudly, looking Karras directly in the eye.

"They're mages. They ran. Done," Karras replied coldly, slashing his hand through the air.

Mardin gripped his sword even tighter, feeling the hilt dig into his gloved palm as he imagined how satisfying it would be to rip Karras's throat out. "Don't," Brianna said softly, laying a hand on his left arm to stay him, even as Thrask protested, "The Circle is a sanctuary, not a prison! If you kill these people, I will see you disciplined by the Divine herself!"

Karras shrugged, seemingly unconcerned with Thrask's threat. "Knight-Commander says no rebel robes get to preach to the tame ones."

"Are you truly going to send us off with this monster?" Grace demanded anxiously.

"I'm sorry, but we have no choice," Brianna replied, and Mardin could hear the hopelessness in her voice. She obviously could not see a way out of this; nor could he, at least not without risking the lives of Brianna and the others, and he couldn't bring himself to do that, especially as he still had the feeling that Grace herself might be dangerous.

"Then we truly have no hope," Grace said quietly. She turned to Thrask, steeling her shoulders as she went on, "You seem a decent man, Templar. I must place the lives of all these people in your hands."

"Don't count on him being around long enough to help you, Sunshine," Karras mocked her.

Thrask shot his fellow Templar a glare before he bowed low to Grace. "I will do all I can. I swear you this. Now you must return to the Circle with us." He took a few steps towards Brianna, handing her a small pouch of coins. "I thank you for the assistance, Mistress Hawke. Do not doubt that you saved lives today."

With that, the party of Templars rounded up Grace and her companions before marching away, leaving Mardin and the others staring after them.

"Did I do the right thing?" Brianna asked, once the Templars were well out of earshot.

"Of course you did," Carver said immediately. "Those mages weren't like you and Bethany. They helped a man who used blood magic and they wanted to kill a man who helped them."

"Grace was harder for me to read than Karras or Thrask, but I definitely got a feeling of danger from her. And there were too many Templars to fight without the chance that someone might be killed," Mardin added, wanting to relieve the burden Brianna was obviously feeling. "Besides, I can always just kill Karras later when he's alone. Random bear attack. No one would know."

Varric laughed, Carver grinned and even Brianna smiled before she shook her head. "We can't just go killing him. It could bring the others down on us, and then someone might figure out your abilities. It's too dangerous."

Mardin studied her face as she met his gaze firmly, noticing that she looked quite serious about this matter. "All right, if you say so. But keep it in mind."

Brianna nodded. "I will." She opened the pouch, doing a quick count of the coins inside. She looked to Varric when she was done. "This is it. We have enough for the expedition."

Varric whistled. "Just in time, Hawke. We should go visit Bartrand tomorrow and settle the details."

"Okay. I'll come by the Hanged Man tomorrow and we can go meet him," Brianna agreed as she tucked the pouch away and started down the sandy path towards Kirkwall.

"Why not come by the Hanged Man when we get back and play Wicked Grace?" Varric suggested brightly as they all started after her. "How about it, Red? Junior? Broody?"

Mardin shrugged. "Why not?" It was as good a way to pass the time as any, after all. Carver and Fenris added their agreements, as did Brianna.

"Great!" Varric declared. "Then let's get back to Kirkwall! I've had more than enough of sand for one day!"

As they continued along the path, making their way back to Kirkwall, Brianna eventually dropped back next to Mardin as the others debated about adding a wild card to their game tonight. "Are you still willing to come on the expedition?" she asked him softly.

"Of course," Mardin replied instantly, looking down at her in surprise. "I told you, you don't have to ask. I'll help whenever you need me."

She studied him for a moment before she smiled. "Then, thank you. I'll have to decide who else is coming along besides you and Varric. Do you want to meet us at the Hanged Man tomorrow and help plan the expedition? You might have some valuable insight from your days as a Captain."

"Well, I don't know much about the Deep Roads, obviously, but I've certainly planned missions before," Mardin agreed. "I'll offer whatever help I can."

"Good. We're leaving in less than a week, and we need to be ready."

"We will be." Mardin wondered as they continued the long trek back to Kirkwall if he was right, or if this expedition would turn out to be part of the darkness he was here to help Brianna with. If it was, he only hoped that he could stop whatever might be coming.


	11. The Deep Roads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brianna asks Aveline a favor before she meets with Varric and Mardin to plan the expedition; they then meet with Bartrand, departing on the expedition at last and going into the Deep Roads.

Chapter 11: The Deep Roads

"Hawke! This is a pleasant surprise. What brings you by the barracks?" Aveline stood up from the desk in her surprisingly large office lined with bookshelves, coming around the corner of the long desk and smiling at Brianna in greeting before she leaned on the edge of it. "I haven't seen you in a couple of months now."

"I know, I know," Brianna said with a sigh, smiling at her red-headed friend as she halted a few feet away. "I should have been up here to visit you before, but I thought you'd be too busy re-organizing the City Guard after you replaced Jeven. And I did send you a couple of offers to join our Wicked Grace games at the Hanged Man, which you turned down."

It was Aveline's turn to sigh as she nodded. "I know, Hawke, and I'm sorry. I have been busy. Jeven left things in such a mess that it's taken me quite a while to straighten it all out. I think I've nearly gotten it figured out now, and I have had some help from some of the other guardsmen. Maybe some night soon I can finally join you at the Hanged Man."

"So the guardsmen have been reacting well to you as their Captain?" Brianna asked curiously, and Aveline nodded, looking pleased. "Whatever happened to that one we saved from Jeven's ambush? Donald, was it?"

"Donnic," Aveline corrected her almost instantly, and her freckled face turned a light shade of pink as she went on, "He's doing very well. He's been . . . most helpful, actually."

Brianna had actually remembered Donnic's name perfectly well, along with the dazzled expression on his face when Aveline had charged to his rescue that night; she'd only pretended not to remember in order to see Aveline's reaction, which didn't disappoint. She grinned slyly at her friend. "Has he, now?"

"Yes, and not in the way you're thinking," Aveline added sternly, though her blush deepened, if anything. "I swear, you can be as bad as Varric sometimes. What did you come up here for, anyway?"

Brianna smiled, deciding to let the subject drop for now. She was simply pleased to see Aveline displaying any sort of interest in another man after what had happened to her husband Wesley during their escape from Ferelden, but she also knew that Aveline might not be quite ready to move on, and so she wouldn't push the subject. "Well actually, I came here to ask you for a favour. I've finally got enough money to join the expedition, and I'm meeting up with Varric shortly to discuss things before we go to see his brother Bartrand. The expedition leaves in less than a week, and I was hoping I could ask you to look in on Mother sometimes while I'm gone. I'll be away for at least a month, I think."

"Of course, Hawke, I'd be happy to make sure Leandra is doing well," Aveline replied instantly. "Does this mean you're planning on taking Carver with you?"

"I'm not sure," Brianna admitted, pacing away from Aveline and along the length of the red carpet covering the flagged stone floor of her office before she whirled and paced back to her friend. "He's very determined to come, but Mother would be so upset with me if I took him along. I haven't been able to decide yet."

Aveline frowned. "That's not like you, Hawke."

"I know." If there was one thing she never usually had trouble deciding on, it was who she wanted around to back her up on a job. But when it came to her family and her mother especially, it became so much more difficult to make a decision, particularly when she knew on some level that her mother still blamed her for Bethany. She shrugged helplessly at Aveline. "It's just hard to decide which one of them I want to hate me."

"Don't be ridiculous, Hawke. Neither one of them will hate you." When Brianna simply raised her eyebrows at Aveline, her friend went on, "You're exaggerating. They'll be disappointed at the most, and they'll get over it. Whether it's Carver or Leandra you end up disappointing, they will eventually forgive you. You know, I saw Carver in the marketplace the other day. It seems like he's grown up a bit in the past couple of months. For one thing, he didn't pester me about joining the guards again. Does that have something to do with one of your new companions he was mentioning?"

Brianna smiled. "He has grown up a bit recently, hasn't he? I think it might actually be due to two of our new companions." She told Aveline about Carver's attraction to Merrill, how he'd taken to walking the elven mage home and even asking others for help when it came to her. "I think she's been really good for him. He'd never willingly asked for my help before until she came along." She then told Aveline about Mardin as well, not everything, of course, but about how he'd been a Captain himself before coming here and had taken to training with Carver and Fenris nearly every day. "The training has been good for Carver as well, I think. He seems more confident, less . . . resentful of me, I suppose."

"He did seem to be much less of a tit," Aveline agreed, and Brianna laughed; Aveline's blunt honesty had always been one of her favourite things about her friend. "It's probably good for him to be out of your shadow, and to have somebody else to look up to at the same time. Do you think this former Captain would be willing to help train some of my guards, as well?"

"He might. You could ask him when we get back from the expedition. I am taking him with me, and Varric, of course. They're the only ones I've decided on for sure," Brianna told her. "Isabela, our other new addition, isn't interested, and I don't think Merrill will do well underground. You're obviously too busy, so that just leaves me with Carver, Anders, and Fenris for my other choices."

"You know I would come along if I could, Hawke, but now that I'm Guard Captain, I can't afford to be away for that long," Aveline said regretfully. "As for Carver, though, if he wants to come along, I think you should bring him. If the only reason you're not bringing him is that you're worried about him getting hurt, or what Leandra would say, that's not fair to him. If you think he wouldn't be useful, then leave him behind. But otherwise. . ." she shrugged her plate-clad shoulders. "He's not a child, Hawke. It's not up to you to make his decisions for him anymore."

"I'll think about it. I'm going to meet with Varric and Mardin right now, to plan out the expedition. I'll probably end up deciding then." Brianna knew, however, that Aveline had a point. She wasn't debating leaving Carver behind for any strategic reason, only because of what her mother would say and because of the image of Bethany dying at the hands of an ogre that wouldn't leave her mind. They might even run into an ogre on this expedition; they were going down into the Deep Roads, after all. But Carver wasn't a child, and he had decided to come along on his own. Was it really her place to protect him from his decisions any longer? She shook her head. She would see what Mardin and Varric said first before she decided anything for certain. She looked back at Aveline. "Anyway, whether I take Carver with me or not, I would still appreciate you checking in on Mother. And once I'm safely back with all my treasure, we'll celebrate at the Hanged Man."

"Of course. Send me word when you leave, and I'll make sure to find the time to look in on Leandra," Aveline said with a nod. "And send me word when you get back, also, and I'll find the time to come down to the Hanged Man. If you insist, that is."

Brianna grinned at her friend. "Of course I do. And thank you, Aveline."

"Anytime, Hawke," Aveline told her. "You don't even have to ask."

"I really do appreciate it. But I'd better be going now; I don't want to be late to meet Varric." Brianna gave Aveline a quick wave and a salute. "Goodbye, Guard Captain!" She laughed when Aveline shook her head in exasperation before she slipped out the office door, closing it carefully behind her.

It didn't take her long to make her way through the early morning crowd in the Keep and back down to Lowtown, where she headed promptly to the Hanged Man and up to Varric's suite. Mardin was already seated at the long table with Varric, eating from a bowl of mystery meat stew while Varric drank from a mug of ale. Varric raised the mug to her in salute as she took the chair opposite Mardin. "There you are, Hawke! How's our favourite Guard Captain?"

Brianna stared at Varric in surprise. She hadn't told anyone she'd been going to visit Aveline this morning, as it was a sudden impulse that had struck her at breakfast when her mother had asked how long she'd be gone on the expedition. "How did you know I went to see Aveline?"

Varric snorted, setting the mug down. "Please, Hawke. Information is what I do."

"Ah," Brianna said, suddenly understanding. "You have a spy following me around."

"I am insulted that you would even imply such a thing," Varric said loftily. "I don't have a spy following you around." When Brianna simply stared doubtfully at him, Varric grinned. "I have several."

Brianna laughed, shaking her head at the dwarf. She didn't doubt his statement was entirely true, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to be mad at him about it. "If you must know, Aveline is doing quite well. She's nearly got all of Jeven's mess cleaned up and might be able to join us for a celebration when we get back."

"Well, we'd better get planning then, hadn't we?" Varric shuffled through some papers on his table, frowning before he apparently produced the one he wanted, pulling out a stub of lead as well and looking up at her. "Have you decided who you're bringing along?"

"Not entirely," Brianna admitted. "Any thoughts on that?" She looked to Mardin as she asked, noticing that he did seem a bit subdued lately. She tried to firmly repress the part of her that missed his smooth confidence, charming words and heated looks. It was his own fault if he was feeling bad, and she hadn't even begun to decide if she was ready to give him a second chance or not. Besides, she had much more pressing concerns at the moment.

"Well, as I said, I don't know much about the Deep Roads," he answered her with a shrug. "In terms of planning a mission, though, it's best to take someone with you who knows the lay of the land and what to expect."

"That'd be Blondie, then," Varric said. "Nobody knows the Deep Roads better than a Warden. He isn't too keen on the idea, but if you asked him, Hawke, I'm sure he'd agree."

Brianna nodded slowly, considering the idea as Mardin added, "And if it's as dangerous down there as you say, and we will be down there for some time, it would be best to have as much healing magic as we can. It would also probably be best to make sure that everyone you do bring along works well together."

"You mean Fenris shouldn't come if Anders does," Brianna supplied. The more she thought about it, the more the advice seemed sound; it was difficult enough to keep them from ripping each other's throats out on regular jobs. She didn't want to imagine how difficult a few weeks trapped down in the Deep Roads with them would be.

Mardin nodded. "I like Fenris, and he's a very skilled swordsman, but it wouldn't be worth playing peacekeeper the whole time. Anders would be of more value."

"What about Junior?" Varric asked, looking up at Brianna expectantly from his paper.

She hesitated, glancing back and forth between the two. "About that . . . I haven't really decided if I'm going to bring Carver along or not."

"He is the logical choice," Mardin pointed out, though his gaze was suddenly sympathetic as it met hers. "We'll need his sword if we're not bringing Fenris along, and he gets along well enough with Anders, doesn't he?"

She nodded reluctantly. "He does, it's just that . . ."

"You're afraid Mama Hawke will kill you if you bring him along?" Varric finished for her, and she nodded again, sighing.

"She's very against the idea. She reminds me of that nearly daily," she told Mardin. "She doesn't want anything to happen to him, and well . . . neither do I."

"He wants to go, though. He seems very excited about it . . . and the decision is his. Look, I know it's hard." Mardin reached out and laid his hand gently over hers, which were gripped together tightly on top of the table as she struggled to make up her mind. He wasn't wearing his gloves at the moment, so the warmth of his calloused hand enveloped her usually cold hands as he squeezed them lightly. She was surprised at the sudden feeling of comfort that washed over her as he went on, "Do you think I wanted to send my sister out on any risky missions after she joined the Order? But joining the Order was something she'd decided to do for herself, and it wouldn't have been fair to her if I went against that decision by making sure she stayed behind. It also wouldn't have been fair to the others if I'd endangered them more by keeping her safe. It killed me a little inside every time, but I had to be the Captain first before I was her brother."

His words brought back their earlier conversation about Bethany, and about accepting that their younger siblings were capable of making decisions of their own. She let out a long breath, realizing he was just as right as Aveline had been, and what's more, he understood how she felt about it in a way that Aveline didn't. Yet he was still telling her that she had to put logic first, before emotions, if she was going to lead properly, and she knew it was sound advice, as much as she hated it. She couldn't stop herself from unfolding her hands and threading the fingers of her right hand through his, needing the comfort it gave her. He looked startled at her action, his eyes flashing up to hers, suddenly that softer, deeper blue she had only seen once before. She liked it just as much as she had then, though, and she smiled gratefully at him, squeezing his hand lightly. "You're right," she said softly, "and honestly, Aveline said the same thing – that if Carver has decided to come, I should only tell him no if I don't think he can help. And I know he can."

"Well, then, I'll add Junior to the list." Varric's cheerful declaration was like a dash of cold water on Brianna's senses as she suddenly remembered she and Mardin were not alone; she quickly snatched her hands back to her own lap, trying to suppress the blush that wanted to rise on her cheeks.

"Uh, yes," she agreed quickly, her eyes darting once again between Mardin and Varric. Mardin, of course, didn't look embarrassed at all, while Varric was smiling slyly. Trying to distract her dwarven friend, she went on, "I'll bring Carver along, and Mother will just have to accept it. Eventually she'll stop being mad at me – I hope. So, it will be you, me, Mardin, Anders, and Carver."

Varric apparently decided to go easy on her, for he simply nodded and continued, "Right, now that's decided, let's figure out what we need to bring along before we go see Bartrand."

The three of them spent a few more minutes discussing what sort of supplies they needed to bring along before Varric declared it was time to go meet Bartrand. They made their way to Hightown, Varric leading them to a marbled courtyard out in front of a building flanked by large statues of dwarves. In front of the statues was a dwarf with blonde hair much like Varric's, directing several dwarven workers in moving and packing various supplies. He turned as they approached, and Brianna noticed that unlike Varric, he sported an elaborate mustache and beard, braided on both sides. He wore a heavy tunic of red, black, brown, and gold, covered in a variety of buckles, and his pale blue eyes narrowed suspiciously as the three of them stopped a few feet away, Varric out in front. "Varric, where have you been? And what are you planning?"

"Bartrand! " Varric exclaimed, waving his hands. "So suspicious! I have, in fact, brought us our future partner!" He gestured to Brianna, who nodded in greeting to the other dwarf, who looked anything but happy to see her.

"What? Partner! You stupid, nug-humping dirt farmer!" Bartrand snapped. "Why did you go promising something like that?"

"Because if we don't get this expedition moving, brother, then we won't have any profits to argue about, will we?" Varric said reasonably.

"Hmph." Bartrand deflated somewhat as he looked at Varric. "Maybe you have a point."

"I feel comforted by all the love here," Brianna said dryly.

"What I'd love is the coin to back up my brother's confidence," Bartrand retorted. "How about it, human? You have fifty sovereigns?"

"We are talking a full share here, right?" Brianna asked, not yet reaching for the heavy pouch she wore on her belt, which contained all of her hard-earned money from the past several months.

"If you have the coin, sure," Bartrand said with a careless shrug. "You'll get a full share."

"It seems like an awful lot of coin for an expedition," Brianna prodded. Though she'd already known how much she needed, of course, she wanted to hear what Bartrand's reasoning was for the amount.

"We're going lower into the Deep Roads than anyone's ever dared. Who knows what we'll find down there? But that means food and equipment and hirelings," Bartrand explained, his eyes narrowing in annoyance as he added, "None of that comes bloody cheap."

Brianna nodded, satisfied with his reasoning as she took out the pouch and handed it over, letting the full weight of it thump into Bartrand's outstretched hand. "I do have your coin, in fact."

Bartrand opened the pouch up almost instantly, his eyes doing a quick sweep of the contents before he looked back up at her. "You're joking."

"What did I tell you, Bartrand?" Varric asked, his voice full of pride. "Not bad for a human."

"All right, partner. Full share of the profit between you, me, and Varric," Bartrand said as he gestured between the three of them. "Now we just need a decent entrance into the Deep Roads."

Having expected this as well, thanks to Varric, Brianna dug the maps Anders had given her so long ago after they'd first met out of the pockets of her robes, handing them over to Bartrand as well. "These might be just what we need."

"What's this?" Bartrand studied the maps carefully, turning them first one way and then the other. "Three . . . four entrances into the Deep Roads, all in the Free Marches? Where did you get these?" He looked up at her with a sudden flash of respect in his eyes.

Brianna shrugged, not wanting to give Anders away. "I have my sources."

"Well, color me astounded!" Bartrand exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "We just pick the most promising one and go! Time to wrap up any business you have in the city, my friend. We'll be gone for several weeks at least. We'll be leaving from this courtyard at dawn, six days from now. You'd best be here and ready to leave."

"We will," Brianna promised, and with that, Bartrand turned and headed back over to his workers.

Seeing that they had apparently been dismissed, Brianna shrugged and turned to leave as well, Mardin and Varric following. She looked over at Mardin, realizing he'd been quiet the whole time, only to see him frowning deeply. Before she could ask him what was wrong, Varric piped up from her other side. "You did it, Hawke! We're all going to be rich!"

"I certainly hope so," she answered, smiling slightly at Varric's enthusiasm. "I couldn't have done it without you, though."

Varric waved her statement off, looking a bit embarrassed. "I just told you what tools you needed. You're the one who got them."

"With a lot of help from you," Brianna pointed out. "And everyone else, of course."

"Varric," Mardin began, interrupting whatever the dwarf had been about to say in reply, "I hate to ask you this, but . . . are you sure we can trust your brother?"

Brianna whipped her head around to look at Mardin, surprised as she suddenly realized why he'd been frowning. True, Bartrand had not given the impression of being a nice or likable sort of person at all, unlike Varric, but could he actually be dangerous?

Varric looked equally surprised as he glanced at Mardin, frowning. "Bartrand set off those instincts of yours? Really?"

Mardin nodded. "Nothing specific, just a . . . general feeling that he wasn't trustworthy."

"Oh." Varric's expression cleared, and he shrugged. "It's probably just because of money. Bartrand's cheap, and he might try to cheat us out of our fair share. Not to worry, though, I'll keep an eye on him. He's not a fighter, though. The only danger he might be to us – especially with you and Hawke around – is to our coin purses."

Brianna let out a sigh of relief, satisfied with Varric's explanation; a greedy dwarf was easy to believe, and now that Varric had pointed it out, she certainly couldn't see him trying to attack any of them, or succeeding in an attack even if he did try it. After a moment of studying Varric's face, Mardin nodded, seemingly satisfied with his answer as well. "I'm sorry," Mardin added quietly. "I know he is your brother, but I needed to know."

"No, don't worry about it." Varric waved his hand, not looking offended in the slightest. "Bartrand might be my brother, but he's not exactly my favourite person, either. Anyway, we should start getting everything ready. Hawke, you need to talk Blondie into coming, and I'll see about getting those supplies together."

"Right," Brianna nodded as they prepared to part ways at the steps down into Lowtown. "I'll let Carver know he's coming, as well, and get together whatever supplies I can. Let's just hope that six days is enough to get everything ready." _And that we actually find something down there._ She didn't think she could bear it if the expedition was a dead end, not after so much time preparing for it; she only hoped that they would find the treasure down there that she needed to provide her family with a better life. She prayed to the Maker that everything would go well as she waved goodbye to Varric before heading off to make her final preparations for the expedition.

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"So are you ready?" Bartrand demanded as Brianna approached him in the courtyard six days later, with Carver, Mardin, Varric and a reluctant Anders in tow. "It's a long trek. If you have any other supplies that you need, you'd better get them now, because we're not coming back."

"We're ready," Brianna told him firmly. She'd gone over everything time and again in the last six days to ensure they had as many supplies as they could possibly carry without being overburdened, and that everyone was as prepared as could be. She'd had plenty of time, considering she hadn't taken any other jobs during those days and her mother hadn't spoken to her after she'd revealed her decision to take Carver, so she was quite certain there was nothing left to do. "Let's get started."

"Then let's not waste any more time," Bartrand declared before he turned to the assembled workers behind them, shouting to all the dwarves to line up and listen. They all scrambled into place behind Brianna and the others as Bartrand paced back and forth, addressing the assembled crowd. "We've chosen one of the hidden entrances. The Deep Roads there will be nice and virginal, ready for a good deflowering."

Mardin snorted behind her at the same time as Varric chuckled softly, whispering, "Now there's an interesting image."

Brianna shushed them even as she suppressed a smile of her own, shaking her head at them as Bartrand went on, "It'll take a week for us to get to the depth we need, and there are bound to be leftover darkspawn from the Blight. Big risks, big rewards."

"I don't mind the risks as long as the rewards are just as big," Brianna told him, hoping that however risky this venture might be, they would all get through it.

"Oh, they will be," Bartrand assured her, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Now, before we . . . wait." He suddenly cut himself off as he looked over the heads of the assembled crowd. "Who invited the old woman?"

Brianna turned to look in the same direction, and sighed as she saw her mother approaching, her faded yellow and blue dress flapping in the early morning wind as she hurried towards them. "I'm sorry to interrupt, ser dwarf, but I need to speak with my children."

"Fine, just make it quick," Bartrand grumbled, waving his hand at them.

Brianna led her mother over to a corner of the courtyard, several feet away from the others, as Bartrand continued his speech, Carver following her. As soon as they were safely out of earshot of the others, Carver turned pleading eyes on their mother. "Mother, no. We talked about how important this is."

Their mother ignored him entirely, turning her gaze on Brianna instead, for the first time in several days. Her blue eyes were full of worry and desperation, her face lined with the sorrow of the last few years, as she demanded, "Are you really planning on going through with this? On taking Carver with you on such a dangerous expedition?"

Brianna sighed, wishing that her mother hadn't had to endure so much that it had made her hair gray and her face so lined before her time – and that her mother would for once attempt to understand the choices she'd made. "We've talked about this, Mother, over and over. I can't leave Carver behind. I need him. Besides, it's his choice to go, not yours or mine."

"I'm going," Carver added firmly, though he sent Brianna a grateful look, which made her wonder if it was the first time he'd ever done so. "It'll be fine."

"It's not fine!" their mother cried, throwing up her hands, tears starting to spill down her face. "You can't both go! What if something were to happen to you?" Brianna noticed with a slight twist of bitterness in her heart that those last words seemed to be directed mainly at Carver before her mother turned to her, adding with a slight venom to her tone, "You I understand wanting to do this. But leave your brother here, I beg you!"

"I said I'm going," Carver told their mother again, his tone one of unshakable conviction. "You are not going to convince me otherwise, Mother."

"We need to go," Brianna added softly, seeing that Bartrand had wound up his speech and Varric was waving frantically at them.

She started to move towards the others, Carver following her, but their mother raced into their path, planting herself directly in front of Carver, crying out, "Carver, I beg you! Don't go! Don't do this!"

"Don't worry about me so," Carver told her gently, taking hold of her hands in his. "I can take care of myself, you'll see."

"It will be okay," Brianna assured her. "We'll be back before you know it, with plenty of riches to reclaim your former home."

Their mother looked up at Carver in mute distress, tears pouring out in earnest now, before she shook her head and let go of his hands. She shot a glare at Brianna that pierced through her heart before she stalked away without a further word.

Brianna sighed deeply. "Maker. Let's hope she gets over hating me by the time we make it back."

"She doesn't hate you, she's just mad right now, that's all. I'm sure she'll be happy to see you when we return," Carver reassured her.

"I hope you're right," Brianna muttered.

"Well, you were right about Merrill forgiving me for that whole Feynriel incident, and I'm right about this," Carver told her firmly.

Brianna smiled, remembering how Merrill had indeed given Carver a tearful hug goodbye last night at the Hanged Man, and how very red her little brother had turned at the gesture, though he'd looked quite pleased as well. "I suppose that's true, so long as Mother is as forgiving as Merrill."

"Personal drama over with?" Bartrand shouted at them, and Brianna nodded, picking up the pace to rejoin them as Carver hurried along with her. "Then let's get underway," Bartrand finished as they reached him.

"Been a long time coming, eh, brother?" Varric said, grinning.

"That it has. The Deep Roads await!" Bartrand marched ahead of the group, gesturing to everyone to fall in line behind him as he began to lead the way out of Hightown towards the gates.

"Are you all right?" Mardin asked Brianna quietly as they followed Bartrand through the city.

She looked up at him, noticing the concerned look shining out of his eyes as they remained carefully fixed on her, and felt more grateful than she would have expected to be, especially after the look her mother had cast her earlier. "I will be, once we all come back safely, hopefully with large piles of treasure, and Mother forgives me."

"She will. Parents can never stay mad at their children." He laughed softly. "Father could be scary sometimes, but he always got over it. She will too, I'm sure. And . . . I'll do everything I can to help you protect Carver, and bring back what you need for your family. I swear it."

Brianna felt herself shaken by his vow, by the intense conviction in his gaze, and by the warmth that swelled up in her heart in reaction to it. "I believe you. And . . . thank you."

He simply nodded in reply, and Brianna found she had to turn away from the intensity of his gaze, her pulse speeding and her blood heating. Maybe she could find it in her heart to forgive him after all, and give him a second chance. She would decide once they were back safely. If the expedition succeeded, she would be able to give her family everything they needed, as he'd said, and she would finally be able to focus on what she wanted. If she was lucky, she might end up with a far better future than she'd ever hoped for. And if she wasn't lucky . . . well, she would simply have to find a way to deal with that, she thought as they left the city, starting on their journey towards the Deep Roads.

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It had taken them a week's travel to even reach the entrance to the Deep Roads Bartrand had selected on the map, and it had taken another week for them to reach the depth they were currently at. The first week had been nothing, an ordinary week on the road that had reminded Mardin of his time with the Order. This past week down in the Deep Roads themselves, however, had been one of the worst weeks of his life, most likely only second to the week Ayla had been missing before he'd found out where she had gone.

Anders had tried to tell him what the Deep Roads were like in that final few days before they'd left Kirkwall, and had even related to him how Ayla felt about them. Even with that explanation, however, what Mardin had imagined came nowhere close to the reality of it.

First and foremost was the complete lack of fresh air to breathe in; the air down here was hot and humid and hung about one like a heavy blanket you could never push aside. Mardin felt that he could have cheerfully killed someone just to breathe in fresh, crisp air. Then, too, there was the constant and overwhelming stench of death and decay and rot everywhere that had him in a near constant state of nausea, and almost unable to identify any other smells properly unless they were quite fresh or particularly strong. He had also not realized how very much he would miss the sun and sky and the feel of nature around him, or how caged in he would feel by the rock walls surrounding him, but worst of all was the fact that his instincts kept him on constant alert, for there was danger everywhere they went down here. He did his best to hold it together, though, for he was determined to keep his promise to Brianna. He would get her and the others out of here safely and with the riches she needed for her family, no matter how much he hated it down here.

He kept reminding himself of that promise constantly; of how upset she'd looked when her mother had confronted her over bringing Carver along, and how badly he'd wanted to make her feel better. It was one of the only things helping him keep his sanity down here whenever he felt overwhelmed, like right now when Bartrand had called a halt and he was doing his best not to breathe through his nose for fear he'd vomit.

At the precise moment when he thought his stomach might lose the battle, he heard the sound of running footsteps echoing off the cavern walls around them and looked up from where he was seated on one of the rocks to the side of the path to see one of the forward scouts running up to Bartrand. "There's been a collapse – the way forward is blocked," the scout explained hastily as he stopped in front of Bartrand.

"What?" Bartrand snarled angrily. "Is there some way around?" He began to advance toward the scout, who backed up nervously, shaking his head.

"Not that I've been able to find," the scout stammered. "The side passages are too dangerous."

Bartrand nodded, studying the other man for a moment before he suddenly punched him hard in the face, knocking him to the ground. Mardin frowned, his nausea forgotten as he got to his feet; the uncomfortable twinge in his gut that looking at Bartrand caused him from the moment he'd met the dwarf had only been getting stronger the deeper they went, and was at nearly alarming levels now as Bartrand leaned over the man, growling, "Useless! What am I paying you blighters for?"

Mardin moved to intercept Bartrand as he charged at the other workers, but Varric stepped quickly in front of him. "Come on, Red. He doesn't mean it; he's just frustrated. I'll take care of it."

Mardin looked down at Varric for a long moment, and the pleading expression on the dwarf's face before he finally nodded. He liked Varric, and he didn't want to sabotage his friendship with the dwarf over Bartrand's unorthodox leadership. He would simply have to keep a closer eye on the other dwarf and hope that the shouting and occasional punch was as bad as it got.

"Set up camp!" Bartrand shouted as Varric went up to him. Mardin sidled a little closer so he could overhear their conversation, wishing as he did so that he possessed his sister's hearing. He noticed Brianna coming up next to him from where she'd been seated further back, talking to Carver, just as Varric asked, "Problems, brother?"

"Sodding Deep Roads!" Bartrand fumed, pacing back and forth as the workers scrambled to set up camp in the cavern they were currently holed up in. "Who knows how long it'll take to clear the path!"

"Shall we not try to find a way around, instead?" Varric suggested quietly to his brother while Mardin strained to make out what he was saying. "Seems like the logical choice."

"You think I'm an idiot, Varric?" Bartrand demanded, whirling on his brother. "The scouts say the side passages are too dangerous!"

Mardin frowned, not liking how angry Bartrand looked or how close he was to Varric at the moment, and obviously Brianna agreed, for she walked up to Bartrand quickly, saying calmly, "Good thing we're not scouts, then. Isn't that what we're here for, to handle the dangerous stuff?"

Varric nodded, looking relieved at her intervention as he added, "We'll take a look. If we come running back, screaming, you'll know staying put was the right decision."

"Fine, fine!" Bartrand threw his hands up impatiently. "Find a way around. Just do it quickly!"

With that, he stormed off towards the back of their group, nearly running into Carver and Anders who were moving to rejoin them as he went. Brianna looked down at Varric, raising her eyebrows, and Varric simply shrugged.

"You're sure it's all right, Varric?" Mardin asked him quietly. He didn't want to keep pushing, but Bartrand seemed unstable at best.

"It's fine," Varric said, nodding. "He's always been like this when things don't go the way he wants. As soon as we find a way around, he'll cheer up. So let's go."

"No point in just sitting and waiting here," Brianna agreed. "Let's go up ahead and check out one of those side passages."

The five of them had just started to leave the area when another dwarf hurried up to Brianna, this one with sandy blonde hair and a red and gold tunic. Mardin recognized him as one of the merchants who'd come along to help keep them supplied; Bodahn, if he remembered correctly. "I hate to add to your burdens, my friends, but I fear I must. I fear my boy, Sandal, wandered off. He's somewhere in those passages, right now!" Bodahn gestured frantically behind him at the winding tunnels beyond. "I beg you, keep an eye out for him. He just . . . doesn't understand danger like he should!"

"When did you last see him?" Brianna asked gently.

"Not a half hour ago! I turned my back to hand out rations, and he was gone!" Bodahn explained anxiously. "He gets so easily distracted. Ah, I should have been harsher with my warnings!"

"His trail should still be fairly fresh, then," Mardin said when Brianna looked up at him expectantly. "I just might be able to track him; it's hard to say down here, though."

Brianna nodded, turning back to Bodahn. "We'll bring him back in one piece, if we can. It's awfully dangerous for one person out there alone."

"Thank you, serah," Bodahn replied gratefully. "I just can't believe he's run off like this!"

"We'd better move quickly," Varric said, and Bodahn nodded, stepping aside to allow them to continue.

Mardin took point as they began to make their way through the caverns, doing his best to try to pick up a scent trail beneath the overwhelming stench as they moved along. It didn't take long before he had to admit defeat, however, and they elected to simply keep a close eye out for the dwarven boy while they searched for an alternate route.

The tunnels eventually led to a paved section of road, crumbled and dusty from disuse, and they followed it for a good distance before Anders called out a warning. They were attacked shortly after by a band of darkspawn; fortunately there were only a half-dozen of the creatures, and it didn't take long before they were victorious. Though this wasn't the first band of darkspawn they'd encountered, Mardin still found himself unnerved by the grotesque creatures and the sheer perversion of nature they represented. He was only too happy to leave their corpses behind as they continued their way along the many ancient roads and crumbling staircases. They encountered a few more bands of darkspawn and some abnormally large spiders as well before they finally came out into a large cavern to witness the strangest sight yet.

There, in the midst of a pile of darkspawn bodies, stood a lone dwarf, seemingly unharmed and cheerfully whistling a low tune to himself. They all halted in shock for a moment before Varric said in awe, "Well I'll be a nug's uncle. Isn't that Bodahn's boy?"

"It must be," Brianna agreed, starting towards the dwarf again. He turned towards her as she approached, grinning widely at her, his blue eyes shining as he offered a simple, "Hello."

"It is!" Carver exclaimed with a laugh as the rest of them followed Brianna over, and Mardin noticed that the young dwarf was wearing a red and gold tunic that matched his father's, and even had similar sandy blonde hair, though he sported no beard. "The great warrior stands victorious!" Carver added, studying the circle of darkspawn around the young boy.

The dwarven boy simply smiled innocently at them, and Mardin frowned, wondering just how he'd managed to kill so many darkspawn without a scratch on him. And more importantly, he thought, his gaze darting to an ogre several yards beyond Sandal, how had he frozen that ogre in place in what appeared to be some sort of blue crystal?

"I'd really like to know how you managed to kill all of them," Brianna said, echoing his thoughts as she smiled down at Sandal.

Sandal held out what appeared to be a rock engraved with some sort of rune to her, and after a moment's hesitation, Brianna took it carefully from him. "Boom," Sandal told her with a grin.

Brianna nodded, looking beyond Sandal to the ogre just as Mardin had. "And how did you do that?" She gestured to the ogre.

"Not enchantment," was all Sandal said before he walked past them, taking the tunnel they'd entered the cavern from.

"Do you think he'll find his way back okay?" Brianna asked as they watched the young dwarf leave.

"Well, if he's capable of doing all this, I'm sure he can find his way back," Mardin said with a shrug as he watched Sandal trundle off, still curious as to how a dwarf with no weapons had managed to defeat so many darkspawn so easily.

"He's a smart boy," Varric agreed. "And we still need to find a way past that cave-in. Come on, let's go."

They started forward again, skirting carefully around the frozen ogre before continuing on down the next tunnel. It took another couple of hours of making their way through more tunnels and caverns before they finally came upon an elaborate, well-constructed room full of statues with a flight of stairs leading up to a large set of double doors. "Ah, here we go," Varric said in satisfaction as he looked over at the map Carver was carrying. "This goes right where we want it to. Let's go back and tell Bartrand. He'll be so pleased."

They hurried back to camp as rapidly as they could, discovering once they'd arrived that Sandal had indeed made it back safely, which led to Bodahn thanking them profusely while Brianna tried to explain that Sandal had actually saved himself, though Bodahn seemed deaf to her words as he claimed that he owed his boy's life to her. Varric, meanwhile, went straight to Bartrand to tell him they'd found a way around, and soon enough, the entire camp had picked up and moved beyond the cave-in to the next section of the Deep Roads.

Once they were beyond the entrance they'd found, they stopped for a few hours of rest before moving on again, and the very next day, they finally found what Mardin assumed they had been looking for; an elegantly detailed set of ruins built into a cavern wall ahead of them, looking not unlike a castle with its spires and towers, though it glowed with an eerie red light that most definitely did not belong to any torches. Mardin should have felt awe looking at it, for he could see that emotion reflected on the faces of his companions, but he could only feel a sense of impending doom and a strong desire to turn back and go the other way. In fact, he could not recall the last time he had felt so panicked, yet he didn't know why. It was just a ruin, and the whole of the Deep Roads was dangerous; how could this particular area be any worse? He had no explanation for it, so he said nothing as the others stared.

"Holy shit," Varric said at last, his tone one of utter awe.

"Is this what you were expecting?" Brianna asked, glancing over at Bartrand, who had joined them at the bottom of the path leading up to the ruins.

Bartrand shook his head slowly. "I thought . . . an abandoned thaig, something old, but . . . what is this?"

"It looks almost like a castle of some sort," Brianna answered. "How did you even know it was here?"

"Old scavenger tales," Bartrand told her, still not tearing his gaze away from the ruins before them. "After the Third Blight. A week below the surface, they said, but nobody believed them . . ."

"Looks like they were right," Varric offered.

After another long moment of looking, Bartrand turned back to the workers behind them, shouting, "Make camp here! We need to look around."

"We'll go on ahead and explore it a bit," Brianna said, and Bartrand simply nodded, waving his hand at her as he moved to direct the workers setting up camp.

"You know, I've never seen anything like this before in the Deep Roads," Anders murmured to Mardin as they climbed the path behind Brianna and Carver, Varric bringing up the rear. "And I have to say, I don't really like the look of the place."

"Neither do I," Mardin admitted. "It feels wrong, even more so than the Deep Roads themselves, but . . . how could it really be any worse?"

Anders frowned. "I don't know, but let's hope we don't find out. I hate the blighted Deep Roads enough as it is."

"Me too," Mardin muttered in agreement, and they continued on in silence after that, Mardin sincerely hoping that his instincts were steering him wrong this time.

The first part of the ruin they entered when they reached the top of the path was nothing more than hallways, and it was some time before they finally found an ancient looking door, which led to yet another hallway, this one more intact than the previous ones and lined with immense black statues. At the end of this hallway was a large, thick door of heavy stone that took all of Mardin's strength to push open.

The room beyond was large, filled with a strange red light that seemed to come from the top of a long flight of stairs that led up between cracked and crumbling pillars. Brianna led the way up the stairs, and at the top, they discovered what looked like an altar of sorts. It was nothing but a plain slab of stone with no decorations on it, and the only thing that lay on its flat surface was an idol constructed of a dark red crystal that glowed with that same eerie light. It seemed to pulse as Brianna approached it, and Mardin felt suddenly sick to his stomach, the hairs on the back of his neck rising up as a sensation of panic overwhelmed him. "Don't touch it!" he cried.

Brianna whirled to look at him, stopping just short of putting her hand on the idol. "Why not?"

He shook his head, feeling so violently ill that he couldn't find words to answer her. She hurried over to his side, reaching up to press a hand to his forehead, which he suddenly realized was clammy with sweat. "Are you all right?" she asked anxiously. "You look terrible."

"I'm . . . I don't know," he managed, struggling to find words, let alone say them out loud as she gently brushed the hair away from his forehead, her violet eyes shining with worry.

He was so distracted by the feel of Brianna's cool hand on his forehead and the spreading warmth of her healing magic that he didn't immediately notice that Varric had approached the idol until the dwarf said in a tone of awe, "Is that . . . lyrium?"

"It's definitely magic. And not the good kind," Anders answered, frowning, darting a glance between Mardin and the idol.

"I think Mardin's right, we shouldn't touch it. There's something . . . wrong with that thing," Carver added, looking concerned, and Mardin nodded in agreement, still finding himself unable to speak properly, wondering why Brianna's healing spell seemed to be providing no relief to the feeling of sickness permeating his body. In fact, he was starting to struggle for air as well, feeling as though something heavy sat on his chest and would only allow him short, shallow breaths.

Varric, however, seemed both oblivious to his struggle and to anything the others were saying as he picked up the idol. It stopped its pulsing in Varric's hand as he studied it closely, his eyes gleaming. "Doesn't look like any kind of lyrium I've ever seen, that's for sure."

Mardin noticed at that moment that Bartrand had come through the door at the bottom of the stairs where they had come in earlier, and Varric turned to him, grinning as he called down, "Look at this, Bartrand. An idol made out of pure lyrium, I think. Could be worth a fortune."

Bartrand whistled lowly, looking up at the idol with an expression that Mardin could only describe as pure greed as he answered, "You could be right. Excellent find."

_No. Something is wrong, so very wrong. Why can't I say anything? Why can't I move? How am I supposed to protect them like this?!_ Mardin could feel the uncomfortable twinge in his gut that Bartrand had always brought out piercing through him tenfold now, so strongly that he wanted to reach for his sword, but he couldn't. He felt entirely frozen in place, unable to move or speak as Bartrand reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Not bad," Varric went on, nodding at his brother. "We'll take a look around, see if there's anything further in." He tossed the idol down to Bartrand at the bottom of the stairs, who caught it neatly.

"You do that," Bartrand replied, almost absent-mindedly as he turned and headed for the door.

As the idol got further away from him, Mardin could feel slow, tingling life returning to his limbs, and words suddenly burst forth from his mouth, though he had no idea where exactly they came from. "Brianna, the door!"

Brianna's eyes widened, and she spun away from him, abruptly cutting off her healing spell as she looked down to the bottom of the stairs to see that Bartrand was starting to swing the door shut. She raced towards him, Anders and Carver hot on her heels, Mardin stumbling after her as soon as he was able to move his feet, but they were all too late. The door slammed shut with a terrifying finality, leaving them trapped within.


	12. Trapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Bartrand's betrayal, Brianna and the others find themselves trapped down in the Deep Roads, and struggle to find their way out together and alive - which turns out to be more difficult than they expected.

Chapter 12: Trapped

"No!" Brianna screamed, pushing uselessly at the heavy stone door. It was shut tight, however, and she could see no handle or way to open it from this side. She remembered that the other side had a heavy bar one could put across it, almost as though it was designed to trap people inside, and that it had been made of such thick stone that Mardin had been the only one able to push it open when they'd entered. There was no way she could open this door, particularly not if Bartrand had barred it from the other side, but she kept pushing anyway, not knowing what else to do.

Varric had reached the door now as well, obviously free of whatever strange hold the lyrium idol had over him, pushing past Carver, Anders, and Mardin, who were all staring at the door in varying stages of shock. "Bartrand!" he called, pounding on the door beside Brianna. "It's shut behind you!"

Bartrand's dry chuckle echoed from the other side of the door. "You always did notice everything, Varric."

"Are you joking?" Varric asked in disbelief, staring at the door as though he could see through it to his brother on the other side. "You're going to screw over your own brother for a lousy idol?"

"It's not just the idol," Bartrand retorted. "The location of this thaig alone is worth a fortune, and I'm not splitting that three ways. Sorry, brother." Brianna, pressing her ear to the door, praying for the sound of the bar lifting, could instead only hear the fading sound of Bartrand's footsteps as he walked away. She stared at the door in sheer disbelief. This couldn't be happening, it just couldn't.

"Bartrand! Bartrand!" Varric shouted, pounding on the door, but Brianna could hear no sign of Bartrand coming back. "I swear I will find that son of a bitch – sorry Mother – and I will kill him!" Varric growled as he whirled away from the door. He heaved out a sigh, looking over at Brianna. "Let's hope there's a way out of here."

Brianna backed away from the door, staring at it, shaking her head as she tried to suppress her panic and despair. Her mother was alone – _alone_ – on the surface with Gamlen, and would never know what had happened to them if they remained trapped down here. All she would know was that Brianna had failed in everything she'd ever promised, including keeping Carver safe. _No – no!_

"Come on, Hawke," Varric murmured, steering her away from the door as she struggled not to hyperventilate. "I'm sure there's another way out of here; we just have to find it."

"Mardin, no!" Anders yelled.

Brianna whipped around just in time to see Mardin in his bear form hit the door at full speed. There was a sickening crash, during which the door remained completely unaffected, and the bear hit the ground with a heavy thud. Her panic over her mother and their current situation temporarily forgotten, Brianna raced back to Mardin's side along with the others, who had all been moving away from the door when Mardin had apparently decided to try knocking it down.

Brianna dropped to her knees next to the bear, lying limply on the ground at the base of the door. Just as she and Anders reached him, the shimmer passed through his body and it was once more Mardin there on the stone floor. He struggled to a sitting position as Brianna reached out for him, looking dazed. "Well, that hurt more than I expected," he muttered, putting a hand to his forehead.

"What did you do that for?" Brianna cried, worry swirling through her. He still looked pale, though not as deathly white as he had when he'd told her not to touch the idol; she'd wondered what had made him look so incredibly ill then, but she'd had no idea how to fix it, as her healing magic hadn't seemed to be working. And though whatever was wrong seemed to have passed as suddenly as it had appeared, he was already pushing himself, shifting and charging at a stone door, of all things. Anger started to build in her at his sheer recklessness. "What were you thinking?! You were so sick a few minutes ago, and now you're trying to bust down a stone door?!"

He shrugged, wincing, and Anders, who was kneeling on the side of him opposite Brianna, put a hand on his shoulder, a glowing mix of blue and green swirling from his hand through Mardin's body. Rejuvenation magic, Brianna realized, as well as the regular restorative healing magic most mages were taught. Anders had been trying to teach her the basic rejuvenation spell, but she'd yet to fully manage it, as it was a good deal more difficult than regular healing. It was, however, far more effective in healing someone who was weary, whose stamina was running low, and she could already see color returning to Mardin's face as he answered sheepishly, "I'm a lot heavier as the bear; I thought it might be enough to knock the door down."

Anders sighed, shaking his head. "Dwarven-built doors are often capable of stopping ogres, Mardin. Even as the bear, you had little hope of breaking it down. How are you feeling?" He lifted his hand, the glowing gone and the spell obviously complete.

Mardin got to his feet, Brianna standing up next to him and scowling at him as he rolled his shoulders. "Much better, thanks," he said, nodding at Anders.

"Don't do something like that again," Brianna snapped at him, "especially not when you're already feeling sick, understand?"

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, refusing to meet her gaze as she stood directly in front of him, hands on her hips. "It was the only thing I could think of to do, to make up for failing to protect all of you."

Brianna stared at him in astonishment, seeing the guilt and shame on his face, and wondering how he could possibly blame himself for what had happened. "You didn't fail at anything. Nobody could have known what Bartand was going to do, and besides, you obviously weren't feeling well."

Mardin opened his mouth to reply, looking like he was about to disagree with her, when Carver interrupted him. "What happened up there, anyway? You looked awful as soon as we got near that idol."

Mardin shook his head, frowning as he glanced over at Carver. "I'm not entirely sure. As soon as I saw that thing, it set my instincts off – I felt total panic looking at it, like there was something horribly dangerous about it. It made me feel sick to my stomach, the sensation was so strong. And then when I yelled at you not to touch it –" he nodded at Brianna – "that feeling of sickness got much worse. I felt so incredibly ill I couldn't even seem to think of words to say, to try to tell you all to get away from it. And when Bartrand came in, I knew he was going to do something, and I wanted to stop him, but it was suddenly like I was frozen too, like I couldn't move at all. And I could feel you trying to heal me, but it wasn't working. It was only after Varric tossed Bartrand the idol and it started to get farther away that I started to feel better, but by then it was too late."

"Are you saying that the idol did something to you?" Brianna asked, surprised. Could something like that even happen? she wondered, glancing at Anders.

"It might have," Anders said slowly. "It seemed as though Varric wasn't acting like himself, either."

"I wasn't," Varric admitted, looking ashamed as he met Brianna's eyes. "I could hear all of you telling me not to touch it, that something was wrong with it, and I could see Red looking like he was about to pass out, but it was like it was . . . calling to me. Telling me to pick it up, to give it to Bartrand, and I couldn't seem to stop myself. I'm sorry, Hawke. You too, Red. You tried to tell me about Bartrand, and I wouldn't listen. I thought, he was my brother, and he wouldn't really do anything to hurt me, but . . ." He shrugged.

"It's all right," Mardin told him softly. "No one would want to think their own brother was capable of doing something like this. It's not your fault, it's mine. I knew there was something wrong with this place, even more so than the rest of the Deep Roads, but I didn't say anything because I thought there was no way it could be more dangerous. I should have trusted my instincts; I should have known better. It's the first lesson every shifter learns, and I ignored it."

"Look at me, Mardin," Brianna said sternly. When he finally did, his ice-blue eyes still full of shame, she met his gaze fiercely as she told him, "This is not your fault. It's not Varric's fault, either. It's not anybody's fault but Bartrand's, and maybe that idol, I don't know. Do you think it's alive, or something?" she asked Anders. "I've never even heard of red lyrium, either."

Anders shook his head. "Neither have I. I would suspect it's not naturally formed lyrium at all, which is probably part of the reason why it affected you so badly." He nodded at Mardin. "I noticed with your sister that shifters seem to react poorly to anything that's a corruption of nature, like the darkspawn. It seems to make you ill." When Mardin nodded, Anders went on, "And I don't think it was necessarily alive, so much as it probably had defensive spells set in place to make sure it fulfilled whatever purpose it was designed for. It's likely that it was meant to influence dwarves more strongly, being down in the Deep Roads, and that's why Varric did what it told him, even before he touched it. And I think it was probably designed to have a paralyzing effect on anyone that realized it was dangerous, that tried to stop the dwarves – or whoever was about to touch it – from doing what it wanted. And once it had what it wanted – once Bartrand took it away and it was out of range of Mardin – the effect disappeared. That would be my theory, anyway."

"It makes sense," Brianna admitted. "I did feel almost compelled to touch it until Mardin yelled at me not to, and then when I saw how sick he looked, I forgot all about it. It must have tried to compel Varric, instead. First a mage, then a dwarf." Though she wondered why it hadn't tried for Anders first. Was it maybe because he was a Warden? Or because of Justice? Not that it mattered, she supposed. Still, the thought that she'd nearly touched it almost made her feel ill. What would have happened if she had? And what would happen now that Bartrand had it?

"But what was it designed for? What was it trying to do?" Carver asked, looking disturbed as he echoed Brianna's thoughts.

Anders shrugged. "I'm not sure, of course, but based on the altar and the fact that the door seems designed to be locked from the outside, I would guess it has something to do with sacrifice. With drawing energy from people, maybe. And having been trapped down here for so long with nothing to draw from, it might be designed to seek out more people that it can draw energy from. Bartrand must have been the easiest one to influence to do something like that, so it might be using him to get back up to the surface where it can get the energy it needs. It's just a theory, though; I could be wrong," he added when Brianna stared at him in horror.

"Well, that's certainly a cheerful thought, Blondie," Varric said dryly. "And all the more reason to get out of here and find Bartrand."

"Can we, though? If this was designed as a sacrificial room, there might not be another way out . . ." Mardin trailed off, shrugging.

"I might not know a lot about my people, but I do know they liked their secret ways out." Varric strode determinedly towards one of the walls. "I'm sure this place is no different if we look hard enough."

"He's right," Brianna agreed, filled with new determination. She wasn't going to die down here. She wasn't going to fail to protect Carver, and she wasn't going to leave her mother alone. Neither was she going to let Bartrand get away with this. There had to be another way, and they would find it. "Let's all split up and check the walls. There must be a way out."

Everyone nodded in agreement, and the five of them proceeded to comb over every inch of the stone room, searching for another door, for some way to open a secret passage and get out. Unsurprisingly, it was Varric who finally found a hidden lever at dwarf height that caused a section of wall to slide open, revealing a darkened passageway beyond.

Brianna ran over at Varric's shout, along with the others, and nearly collapsed with relief when she saw the opening. They _would_ get out of here, after all. "You are my very favourite dwarf, Varric," she told him. "Thank you."

Varric grinned at her. "Of course I am, Hawke. Just like you're my favourite human."

"Hey," Carver said in mock offense. "What about the rest of us?"

"Yeah, I thought we were friends," Anders added.

"Don't worry about it," Varric waved them off. "You're all tied for second; Hawke's just better story material. Plus she's better-looking than all of you."

"Well, there's no arguing with that," Mardin said mildly, and winked at Brianna when she rolled her eyes at him, though she couldn't suppress a smile. It seemed finding the passage had lifted everyone's spirits.

"Now let's go find everyone's least favourite dwarf," Varric said grimly.

Brianna nodded, lighting the first torch in the passageway with a flick of her magic. "Let's go get Bartrand. He's going to pay for what he tried to do to us." And if Anders was right about the idol, they needed to get it away from Bartrand before it fulfilled whatever purpose it was designed for. She started off down the passageway, determined to get out of the Deep Roads and find Bartrand; the treasure and all the rest of it no longer seemed important.

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"Enough." Though it was not a shout, still the word boomed throughout the room, reverberating eerily through Brianna's body as the last of the odd creatures they'd been fighting collapsed at her feet. All the way to this cavernous room, they'd been fighting these things, which seemed to be spirits of stone held together by fire, almost like walking skeletons of rock and flame. The only way to defeat them was similar to the undead on Sundermount; removing their heads – or what passed for their heads – from their bodies stopped whatever unnatural magic or energy drove them. They had fought the most yet in this room, over a dozen, but it was the first time they'd heard a voice other than their own.

Brianna looked to the other end of the room, where she thought the voice might have come from, down between the several pillars that lined the center of the room, rather like a great hall leading to a set of stairs where a throne might be. There was no throne at the end any longer, but there was something else there at the base of the stairs; another spirit of stone and fire, far larger than any of the others they'd fought so far, with half of a skull for a head, one large glowing eye peering out at them. "You have proven your mettle," the thing said, though of course no mouth moved, making Brianna wonder just how it spoke. "I would not see these creatures harmed without need."

Brianna walked towards the creature, between the pillars, the others falling in line behind her. She could see more of the blue and red crystals outside of the pillars, on either side, which they had seen all the way here, and more cracks in the wall through which red light shone. All of it, Anders had said, was lyrium, though it didn't seem to affect anyone the way the idol had; at least, not yet. This creature glowed with a red light to match the unnatural lyrium, and she didn't need to see the scowl on Mardin's face to know it was as dangerous as the idol had been. "We aren't harming them without need," she informed the thing as she stopped several feet away from it, just inside the pillars. "They were attacking us on sight; we were just defending ourselves."

The eerie skull swung towards her, focusing in on her after it had seemingly looked over all the others. "They will not assault you further, not without my permission."

Brianna was about to ask why it cared, or how it could stop them, but before she could, Varric asked, "What are these things? They seem like rock wraiths, but . . ."

"They hunger," the spirit answered, its one eye swivelling down to Varric now. "The profane have lingered in this place for ages beyond memory, feeding on the magic stones until the need is all they know."

_The magic stones? The lyrium_ , Brianna realized, frowning. "They eat the lyrium? That doesn't sound like a healthy diet. And what about you? What are you?" Even as she asked the question, she had a feeling she already knew.

"I am not as they are. I am . . . a visitor," the spirit answered carefully.

"You mean a visitor from the Fade," Anders said coolly. "It seems mostly interested in their hunger," he explained when Brianna looked at him, eyebrows raised. "It's a demon, come to feed."

Brianna nodded, unsurprised that Anders had confirmed her suspicions. The only demons she'd seen in the flesh, and not in her father's books, had been desire demons, which took a very different form from this thing, but the feel of them, of the magic around them, was very nearly the same. Although she sensed that this thing was stronger than any desire demon.

"I would not see my feast end," the demon stated before Brianna could tell it just where it could go. "I sense the desire you all share; you seek to leave this place, among other things. But you," turning to Mardin, "you hunger more than all the others. To do battle, to deliver death, for family, for a place to belong, but most of all, for her. So much hunger – it is . . . delicious," the demon breathed, almost reverently.

"Leave him with me," it continued, looking back to Brianna, "and defeat the creature that lies up ahead, and I will see to it that the rest of you leave this place safely. The profane will no longer harm you, and the way out will be open."

Brianna had been looking to Mardin during the demon's speech, startled at its assessment of him, and when the demon had said the words "for her" Mardin's gaze had flashed to her, briefly, and in that moment she had seen such blatant hunger in his eyes she had nearly gasped out loud as she felt an answering hunger flare up in her. The moment was gone as quickly as it had come, however, as Mardin blinked and his eyes, his face, went carefully blank. As soon as the demon finished, Mardin began, "If it means the rest of you will get out safely, then –"

"No," Brianna cut him off, surprised at the sudden fury and fear that swept through her at the realization of what he was about to offer. "We're all getting out of here together, and we're not taking any deals." She looked firmly at the demon, meeting its fiery eye with a glare.

"Come on, Red," Varric added. "We're not going to leave you behind, and if anyone should be making a dramatic sacrifice to get us out of here, it should be me. My brother is the reason we're trapped down here."

When Mardin opened his mouth again, frowning, a determined look stamped on his face, it was Carver who interrupted him. "No. Bree's right. We're all getting out of here, and no one is making any kind of sacrifice, okay?"

"A deal with a demon is a bad idea, anyway," Anders said, laying a hand on Mardin's shoulder and squeezing it briefly. "They trip you up every time, and nothing good ever comes of it. We'll find another way out."

"He's right. It's a bad idea. _No deal_ ," she snapped at the demon, firing an arcane blast right at its eye.

"Most unwise," the demon growled, seeming to be more annoyed at her blast than injured. The rocks collapsed to the ground as it spoke, and in their place, an abomination rose up, along with several more of the creatures it had called the profane, along with some shades.

Mardin was there in front of her almost instantly, blocking the clawed arm swinging at her with his shield, and she took advantage of the distraction afforded to fling spell after spell at the abomination and the shades surrounding them, as did Anders. Down here, surrounded as they were by lyrium to draw from, their magic was nearly inexhaustible, and both of them had been using that to their advantage in the many fights so far.

This fight was no different, as they used their ice magic to freeze shade after shade for Carver and Varric to shatter, and blasted off head after head using lightning magic. They used healing and supportive magic when needed, and Brianna used shielding spells and strengthening spells on Mardin as he fought in front of her, meeting the infuriated abomination blow for blow. In the end, his sword slipped past the creature's long arms and through its chest, and he drew it viciously downward, opening up a fountain of blood. The abomination screamed in rage even as it crumbled to its knees, and Mardin sliced its head off with a clean, decisive stroke, the body sliding sideways to the ground.

Even as the dead abomination hit the ground, Anders blasted the head off the last profane and Carver busted apart the last shade in a shower of ice, leaving the cavernous room quiet once more.

"Well, now it's time to find that other way out," Varric said as he slung Bianca onto his back. "I wonder what creature it wanted us to defeat?"

"If we're lucky, we won't have to find out," Brianna replied as she stepped carefully over the abomination's body and started up the stone stairs beyond.

Varric snorted. "Do you really think we have any luck?"

"Yes and no." Brianna shrugged, grinning down at him. "We might have been locked in that room, but we're not still trapped there, are we?"

"An excellent point," Varric nodded at her. "Your story is much too epic to end down here, after all. Looks like there's a door up here; let's go."

He pushed his way through the door at the top of the stairs, into another tunnel, and Carver and Anders passed through while Brianna waited for Mardin, following him through the door and falling in next to him.

"You're mad at me," he said after a moment, quietly, as the others continued on ahead through the crumbling, rocky tunnel.

"No. Maybe," she admitted with a sigh. She wasn't quite able to properly identify all of the tangled feelings that had swept through her when she'd realized he was willing to sacrifice himself for them, but she knew they were intense feelings, and anger was certainly one of them. "Do you honestly think so little of me, as to believe that I would happily trade your life for ours?"

He shook his head. "Not happily, no. But if it's what needed to happen to get the others out safely, I thought you would see the sense in it. One life lost is better than five. And I did promise to help you, to help you protect your brother and get out of here safely. And I was willing; it wouldn't have been your fault."

"There was no sense in it," she snapped at him, irritated at how casually he was discussing throwing his life away. "It's not the only way out. It's _not_ ," she repeated firmly when he looked at her doubtfully. "I'm never going to make a deal with a demon for my own safety, or anyone else's. Not even Carver's. And I'm definitely never trading anyone's life if I can help it. So don't ever try to take an offer like that again while you're with me, understand?" When he nodded, looking surprised, she went on, "And shouldn't you worry about yourself for once, anyway?"

"Myself?" He stared at her blankly. "Why?"

" _Why_?" she echoed incredulously. Was he really so unconcerned about his own life? "Don't you want to live, to see your sister again? Why would you throw all that away for people you've only known a few months?"

"It's my duty," he replied after a long moment. "Protecting people, keeping them safe. It's my duty, and my destiny. How long I've known you, or what I might want for myself, that doesn't matter. And of course I want to see Ayla again, but my duty comes first; it always has. How can I be an effective protector, an effective shield, if I'm worried about my own safety?"

He said it so simply, with such conviction, that it shook her. She didn't know why, but the thought of him dying as her shield was terrifying, as was the careless way he treated his own life and death. Even as she admired his bravery, his iron-clad devotion to duty, she was angry at him for treating his own life so casually. How could he even say that it didn't matter? Well, she wasn't about to let him die on her watch, not if she could help it.

With that in mind, she stepped in front of him, forcing him to halt so he didn't run right over her. She looked up at him, meeting his gaze seriously. "Think about it this way. How can you protect us, be our shield, if you're dead? If you want to help, that's fine. But if that help means you carelessly tossing your life away without thinking, without even trying to find another way, then I don't want it. I don't want any dramatic sacrifices. I want all my friends alive and together with me, and I won't accept any less. Got it?"

He studied her for a long moment, his gaze unreadable again, before he suddenly smiled, a bright, genuine smile that flooded over her like light – and swept that shocking hunger through her again. "Got it. I'll do my best to protect myself as well as the rest of you. I'll be more . . . careful and less reckless, and try to look for the best way out. Now, we'd better catch up to the others. There is something up ahead still – I can feel it."

The creature, she remembered suddenly, the one the demon had referred to. And Carver, Anders and Varric had gone on ahead. "Let's go!" She turned and raced after the others, Mardin close on her heels.

Once they'd caught up to the others, Brianna slowed her pace, but she pushed to the front of the line again, as did Mardin. "Mardin says there's still something up here," she told them, "so be ready. It would seem our luck ran out on this one."

"Not if we beat it," Varric said, grinning at her. She simply shook her head and smiled at him in response.

They continued on through the tunnels for a few more minutes before they finally went up another set of stone stairs into a circular room. The rocky ceiling was held up by massive, thick pillars covered in red crystals, leaving the center perfectly clear. There was an opening in the wall across from them, likely another tunnel, and a heavy silence hung over the room. If the creature was going to be anywhere, it was probably here, Brianna thought.

"What is this place?" she murmured, clutching her staff tightly as they walked slowly into the center of the room.

"This is the vault," Varric explained, gripping Bianca in both hands as he looked around, his voice hushed. "The dwarves would have brought their . . ."

"It's here," Mardin said, cutting him off.

As soon as he said it, Brianna heard it; the sound of rocks crashing together behind them. They were most of the way across the room now, and she turned reluctantly to see rocks flying together in the center of the room, as if drawn together by some unseen force, rapidly building themselves into an immense skeleton of stone, held together by red, crackling energy. It looked similar to the form the demon had taken, only much, much larger.

"Oh, that can't be good," Varric muttered.

"You think?!" Carver exclaimed.

"If it's anything like the other ones, then we simply need to remove the head." Anders raised his staff, aiming a blast of lightning at the rounded stone on top that passed for a skull. Just before the blast reached it, the rocks suddenly split apart, disappearing and re-forming behind them in a matter of seconds.

"Oh, that's definitely not good!" Brianna cried. Rather than aiming a blast of lightning at it, she tried throwing an explosive fire spell at it. It exploded around the creature's stone body, and the thing shrieked as it appeared to bust apart, but once again, it re-formed in mere seconds, back in the center of the room. One of Varric's bolts bounced uselessly off the stone shell, even as Mardin and Carver's swords clanged off the stone, too.

_It's not enough. I need something stronger_. Brianna was trying to think of a way to make her fire spell more explosive, or perhaps combine a spell with Anders, when the creature pulled itself into a tight ball of rock and Mardin suddenly shouted, "Run! Hide behind something! The pillars!"

"But – " Brianna began, but she was abruptly cut off as Mardin raced at her, scooping her up and whirling her behind a pillar as the others dove behind another pillar on the other side of the room. Mardin held her tightly against his chest, his back up against the pillar as the room exploded with blinding red light that flooded every inch of it, obliterating all of the smaller rocks in its path. Brianna stared at the light in alarm as it exploded by, a mere foot from her face, the only parts of the room not filled with it being the areas behind the pillars, which were apparently large and sturdy enough to block the incredible force.

After a long moment that seemed to take forever to pass, the red light finally disappeared, leaving the room quiet once more. Brianna blinked in shock, spots of color dancing in front of her eyes. "Is it dead?"

Mardin let go of her, and Brianna pushed aside the strange feeling of regret when he did as they both peered around either side of the pillar. A pile of rocks lay in the center of the room, but Mardin shook his head even as Brianna felt hope rising in her. "No, it's just recuperating, I think. The feeling of danger isn't gone yet."

"There are more of those things – those profane!" Carver shouted as he, Anders and Varric emerged from behind their pillar.

Brianna whirled to look at the way they'd come in, seeing that Carver was right – several more of the smaller creatures were shambling into the room from the tunnel they'd used earlier. She hurried out to meet them, Mardin and the others at her side as she blasted the head off of one of them. These ones, at least, she could do something about.

But even as they cut through the profane, she could see out of the corner of her eye the larger creature beginning to re-form – and the others saw it, too.

"What are we gonna do, Hawke?" Varric shouted, firing bolts at the heads of the smaller creatures. "Our weapons don't work on the big one!"

"We need to explode it apart, somehow!" Anders called, blasting lightning bolts at both the smaller creatures and the larger one, though they appeared completely ineffective on the latter.

_Explode it apart . . . boom!_ "That's it!" Brianna yelled, excited, as the thought came to her in a flash.

"What's it?" Mardin grunted as he bashed back the last of the smaller profane, striking its head off with a swing of his sword.

Brianna dug her hand into the pocket of her robes, where she'd placed the rock Sandal had given her a couple of days ago. The rock with an explosive rune engraved on it. "Boom!" she said, holding out the rock to the others. "We throw this at it when it's finished re-forming, and Anders, you and I cast explosive magic on it at the same time. That ought to be enough to bust it apart – and blow its head off!"

Anders grinned, nodding at her. "That just might work."

"Are you sure that rock will work?" Carver asked doubtfully.

"Sandal managed to freeze that ogre and defeat all those darkspawn," Brianna pointed out. "I don't see why this rock wouldn't work, too."

"Let's do it, then, Hawke! It's almost back together!" Varric shouted, pointing at the creature, which had indeed almost fully re-formed.

"I'll throw the rock," Mardin said, holding out his hand. "I have a lot of practice throwing daggers, and it'll give you more time to cast your spell."

"Okay." Brianna handed over the rock without complaint, raising her staff and readying her spell as Anders did the same across the room. Mardin pulled his arm back and hurled the rock directly at the creature's face, and just before it reached its target, it was engulfed in explosive flames from both her and Anders.

A huge ball of fire blasted outwards seconds later, an explosion of heat and noise that rocked the room as the creature gave an unholy scream and rocks burst outward from it as it shattered apart. Brianna was stunned for a moment by the unexpected force of the explosion, and so was unprepared when a rock sailed right towards her. For the second time in the last few moments, Mardin's arms wrapped around her as he pulled her out of the path of the rock and down to the ground, shielding her body with his as rocks rained down on them from the ceiling and flew towards them from the force of the explosion.

She could feel his body jerk as the first few rocks struck his back, and cast a shielding spell over him in the next moment, covering both their bodies as she struggled to hold the magic in place, feeling more and more rocks striking it. She had just begun to worry that the explosion was too much, that it would bring the ceiling down on them and bury them, when she realized that the number of rocks striking her shield and clattering around them was slowing, until it stopped altogether.

She let out a sigh of relief as she let her spell go, feeling close to drained. Unlike the previous rooms they'd been in, this one didn't have any natural sources of lyrium, and she wasn't about to draw from the red lyrium. She'd have to hope that Anders had a lyrium potion or two left, because she didn't. "Is it dead _now_?" she whispered, hearing nothing but silence around them again.

She looked up at Mardin as she asked the question, realizing suddenly just how close his face was to hers and just how much of his body was pressed to hers. Fire began to burn through her veins at the realization, and her heart began to speed up even as he nodded. "The feeling's gone; it's dead now. Are you okay?"

"I think the better question would be are _you_ okay?" she retorted, struggling to keep her voice and breathing even, and wondering why he hadn't moved yet - and why she wasn't making him. " _I_ didn't get hit with any rocks."

He grinned at her. "I'll be fine. It's just a few bruises. You stopped the rest of the rocks from hitting me."

"You shielded me, and I shielded you. It seemed fair," she told him, and he nodded in agreement, smiling again even as his gaze dropped to her mouth. She'd licked her lips, and she had the fleeting thought that she might have done it intentionally when she saw his eyes go that blazing blue again. He swallowed convulsively, his head lowering fractionally before he froze, seeming to struggle with himself.

_So much hunger. Most of all, for her_. The demon's words flashed through her mind again, and she wondered once again if it had been referring to her. Given the way he'd looked at her when the demon had said it, it seemed likely, though the thought of it surprised her – and somehow thrilled her, too. She wondered, also, why she still felt like this around him, even though she didn't want to – and why she wanted to close that last scant inch of distance between their mouths. Even as she thought it, her body had already moved, apparently over-ruling her mind, and her mouth lifted up, brushing his.

There it was again; the fire, the intense passion as soon as their lips touched. And this time, when he opened his mouth, she was the one who went deeper, who slid her tongue against his as his breath hitched out in a low moan. Maker, the taste of him, the way he fired her blood, the electric feel of his body against hers; why had she ever thought she could do without this? She arched her body up into his, and he growled, his hand gripping her thigh and pulling her leg up over his hip, holding it firmly in place as his body pressed tightly against hers.

At that moment, a hacking cough broke through the pleasant haze of passion she was experiencing, and a voice called out from across the cavern, "Red? Hawke? You two okay?"

Icy panic and embarrassment dashed through her as she suddenly remembered that Varric, Anders, and Maker, _Carver_ , were all here in the room with them, and she shoved at Mardin's chest even as she tried to scramble backwards. Mercifully, he seemed to return to reason as well, for he let go of her and sat back, allowing her to lurch to her feet. More fortunately yet, the room was filled with dust from the explosion that was slowly settling, making it hard for her to spot Varric, Anders and Carver as they made their way across the room. Meaning they couldn't have seen what she and Mardin had just been doing – thank the Maker.

She took a deep, steadying breath, trying to clear her mind and push down the lust still thrumming through her body. This was not the time or the place, and now that reason had returned, she remembered just why she'd been avoiding the passion between them. Perhaps, she thought, looking at Mardin as he also got to his feet, clearing his throat and carefully avoiding looking at her, she would give him another chance, but not now. Once they got out of here and back to Kirkwall, she would talk to him again, give him a set of conditions and see if he could abide by them – but now was definitely not the time to have that discussion.

"We're fine," she called back, once she could trust her voice again, and waving the dust away from her face as she tried to make out the others. "What about you? Anders? Carver?"

"I'm fine, Bree," Carver answered, and she felt some of the worry and tension drain out of her as Anders added his reassurance as well.

Brianna let out a breath of relief as the others approached, and the dust finally settled enough for her to see that yes, they were all fine; dirty and a bit bruised, but no one was seriously injured. "Looks like the plan worked. I'm glad everyone's okay. Now, I suppose, we see if we can find a way out."

"Well," Varric began as he turned and began leading them toward the other tunnel out of the room, "as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted by that rock wraith – which is supposed to be just a dwarven legend, by the way – this should be the vault. Meaning it just might have the treasure we've been looking for."

"There'd better be, after all that," Carver grumbled, but he hurried after Varric readily enough, as did the others as the dwarf led them through another winding tunnel.

As they reached the end of the tunnel and rounded the corner, Brianna gasped at the sight before them. The tunnel opened up into another large room beyond – this one filled to overflowing with gold, treasure chests, gems, and statues, piled and scattered every which way. It was more treasure than she'd ever seen in her life – than she'd ever expected to see.

"Well, well," Varric said in a tone of utter satisfaction. "Just look at what it was guarding."

"Wow," Carver breathed, staring around the room in awe. "This is it, Bree! This is what we came down here for!"

"The treasure is all well and good," Anders said, kneeling down next to a chest to rifle through it, "but only if we get out of here."

Mardin was carefully threading his way through the piles of treasure to the opposite end of the room, and Brianna saw that there was a large door there just as he reached it. He tried to turn the handle, pulled at it and then pushed, before he turned back, shaking his head. "It's locked. But it looks like there's a place to put a key, unlike that other door."

Brianna nodded, glancing at the others. "Then let's look for the key. And once we find it, then we'll see if we can bring some of this back with us."

She still didn't think the treasure was as important as all of them getting out of here alive, but if that door did lead to the way out, there was no sense in just leaving all of the treasure behind when it was right there in front of them. If she could avoid coming back empty-handed, she would, especially after the months and months of work they'd all put into going on this expedition. But one way or another, they _were_ getting out of here.

With that in mind, she began to comb thoroughly through the treasure in the room, looking for anything resembling a key. The others began to search with her, and it was Anders who eventually found a large, ornate gold key inside a pouch tucked among a pile of treasure. He scrambled over to the door with it, all of them following, and Brianna let out a long, shuddering sigh of relief when the key turned and the door pushed open, revealing another tunnel beyond.

"All right," Varric said, rubbing his hands together, "let's take as much as we can carry for now, and later, I'll send people back to get the rest. Bartrand doesn't know where _this_ treasure is."

Brianna nodded in agreement, and they loaded themselves up with as many valuable gems, jewels, and coins as they could carry without exhausting themselves, before they left the treasure room behind and entered the tunnel, praying that it would finally lead to the way out.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Five long, gruelling days later, they finally stumbled across a paved stone road that looked much like the roads Mardin remembered from their first days in the Deep Roads. The few provisions they'd had on them when Bartrand had locked them in that room had run out two days ago, leaving them to search for somewhat edible plants along the way – and they'd even roasted a few deepstalkers, as Anders called them, for meat – little lizard-like things that attacked in packs. Fortunately, they'd also found an underground river that ran fairly clear that they'd used to replenish their water supply once Anders and Brianna had boiled the water with their magic to be sure it was clean. Unfortunately, they'd also run across several packs of darkspawn on their way back, and the last couple of fights had been close, due to their exhaustion and lack of proper food.

Still, they'd survived so far, and Mardin was determined that none of them would die down here. He'd promised Brianna to protect them, and he'd even promised to try to look after himself - a promise he'd never given before, not even to Ayla. And now that she'd kissed him – though she'd avoided talking about that so far – he had real hope she might one day give things between them a second chance. That and the thought of seeing his sister again, seeing the sun and sky, were what kept him going, kept him pushing onwards through his nausea and exhaustion as they trudged along, looking for the way out.

His determination had begun to wane in the last couple of days, however, so he was relieved when Varric looked around at the road, nodding. "We're back where we started, and in only five days. Not bad, eh?"

"Definitely not bad," Brianna agreed, smiling. "And another reminder of why you are my favourite dwarf. Looks like our luck is changing."

"If we were really lucky, we would have stumbled over Bartrand's corpse by now," Varric grumbled.

"I'd prefer to find him living so I can kill him myself – and make it slow," Mardin retorted, temporarily lost in a pleasant vision of all the ways he could make Bartrand suffer for what they'd all gone through over the last week.

"I'd just like to get out of the Deep Roads," Anders said. "And then never come back here again."

The others all nodded, adding their agreement as Varric and Brianna led the way forward along the paved stone road. Noticing that Carver had been unusually quiet, Mardin turned to look back at him, only to see him several feet back from the rest of them, weaving as though he were drunk. "Think we could . . . take a break?" Carver managed, as Mardin hurried back to him, his instincts suddenly going off in alarm that something wasn't right. "I feel . . . wrong."

As Mardin raced towards Carver, he could Brianna's worried voice saying behind him, "Let's make camp if you're sick. What's wrong?"

Varric let out a snort. "I'll wager it was those deep mushrooms we found."

Carver slumped to his knees just as Mardin reached him. "No, it's . . ." Before he could finish what he'd been about to say, he fell sideways, and Mardin just barely caught him before he hit the stone road.

He could hear running footsteps behind him as Brianna screamed out, "Carver!" All his focus, however, was on the smell coming from Carver's right side, halfway down his ribs. He realized suddenly, as Carver breathed shallowly in his arms, that it smelled like the darkspawn – like their unnatural blood. How could he not have noticed this before? he wondered, furious at himself. Was his sense of smell really so poor, so overwhelmed down here, that he would fail to notice that horrible scent on one of his own companions? Or was it that he had been so caught up in keeping himself from losing his mind down here that he hadn't noticed anything else? Either way, it was unacceptable; he was supposed to be protecting them, Carver especially, and the guilt flooded him as Brianna dropped to her knees next to him, pulling Carver over onto her own lap, her face wracked with anxiety and pain.

Anders and Varric had reached them by now, as well, and Anders suddenly reeled back, looking shocked and as disgusted at himself as Mardin was. "It's the Blight," Anders said quietly. "The taint. I can sense it. I don't know how I could have missed it until now . . ." he trailed off, shaking his head.

"You and me both," Mardin replied grimly. "I should have noticed the smell by now."

"The taint?" Carver murmured, struggling to sit up, and Mardin helped Brianna lift him into a sitting position. "Just like that Templar, Wesley. I'll be just as dead, just as gone."

Mardin didn't know what he was talking about, but Brianna obviously did, for she shook her head in denial. "No, you won't! Anders, there must be something you can do!"

"I'm not going to make it." Carver placed a gentle, restraining hand on Brianna's shoulder, shaking his head. "Not to the surface, not anywhere. It's getting worse."

"So I'll carry you," Mardin said. He had to do something to make this better, to make up for the fact that he'd failed to protect Carver as he'd promised, and this was the only thing he could think of.

"There might be something I can do," Anders said slowly, almost reluctantly, Mardin thought. "I can't guarantee it will work, but it's the only thing that might. Going back to the surface definitely won't help."

When Brianna looked up at him expectantly, Anders continued, "There are other Wardens nearby. Less than a day's travel. I can sense them. I was planning on avoiding them, if we could; Justice makes it so they can't sense me anymore. But I can still find them - and we need them."

"How would more Wardens be helpful?" Brianna demanded.

"We can bring Carver to them," Anders replied. "They're the only ones who can help. Healing magic can't do anything, not for this."

"How can they help?" Carver asked, frowning. "By making me a Grey Warden?"

How would that help? Mardin wondered, confused, even as Brianna said, "Becoming a Grey Warden? Is that a cure?"

"Yes, I suppose it is." Anders hesitated for a moment, before adding, "But it's not without a price – one not everyone is willing to pay."

"What price?" Brianna snapped. "Maker's breath, Anders, just spit it out!"

"The process of becoming a Warden is . . . unpleasant," Anders answered carefully, avoiding Brianna's gaze. "And irreversible. It also means you might never see your brother again. He might survive the Blight, but at the cost of becoming a Grey Warden. It's not an easy life. Trust me. While I enjoyed parts of it, other parts are . . . very difficult."

Brianna looked back and forth between Anders and Carver, who was only looking paler by the moment, sweat dripping down his face. "How does it work? What's so unpleasant about it?"

Anders shook his head. "I can't tell you. But it's not something you can undo once it's done . . . even if you want to. It is the only thing that will save him, though."

Mardin frowned. Ayla was with these Wardens, and the more Anders said about them, the more his own anxiety grew. It sounded like the consequences for the powers of Wardens were even worse than for shifters. But surely she wouldn't have - "My sister isn't actually a Warden, is she?" he demanded, worry slicing through him.

"No, she never became one," Anders told him, and Mardin let out a breath of relief as Anders went on, "The Commander is quite insistent she never tries unless we have no choice – that only if she falls victim to the Blight as Carver has, would he ever consider it."

"This just keeps sounding better and better . . ." Carver muttered, his words slurring now as his head lolled against Brianna's shoulder. She put a hand up to his forehead, looking anxiously up at Anders.

"It's the only thing that will work, though," Anders said as his eyes met hers. "And they will agree to it, if we can find them in time . . ."

"We will," Mardin said firmly, getting to his feet. "It'll be faster if I carry him."

"Carver." Brianna shook his shoulder. "Carver?"

"What is it, Bree?" he mumbled, lifting his head a little to look up at her.

"This is your decision. I don't want you to die if there's a way to stop it, but if you don't want to be a Warden, I won't force you." She took a shuddering breath before continuing, her voice low, breaking towards the end, "Do you want to try, even if being a Warden will be hard? Or would you rather I just . . . let you go?"

Carver was silent for a long moment, and Mardin began to wonder if he was even alert enough to answer when he finally said, "I want to live. If being a Warden is the only way to do that . . ." He shrugged, weakly. "Then I have to be a Warden."

Brianna nodded, smiling, though her eyes were shining with tears, and Mardin wondered at the way those tears wrenched his heart. "Then let's go find the Wardens," she said, looking up at Mardin. "Can you really carry him? I know you're strong, but he's nearly as big as you are, and it's a long way."

"I can," he promised her. It didn't matter how tired he was, how much these Deep Roads and the lack of food were sapping his energy. He would not fail her in this, not after he'd failed to notice Carver's injury. He stooped down, and between Anders, Brianna, and Varric lifting and arranging Carver, managed to get Carver draped over his back.

"I'm so sorry, Hawke," Varric muttered as Mardin straightened up, nearly staggering under Carver's weight but managing to plant his feet, determined not to fall. "This is all my fault."

"No, Varric, it's not," Brianna reassured him, squeezing his shoulder. "This is Bartrand's fault, and one day he'll pay for it. Right now, though, we need to get Carver to the Wardens as fast as possible."

Varric nodded, though the guilt on his face had not lessened as Anders said, "Then let's go." He sighed, before turning towards a side road and waving them on. "They're this way."

The others followed behind Anders, Mardin bringing up the rear with Carver out of necessity. He could carry him, and he would, he was determined about that, but he couldn't be fast about it.

"Merrill . . . and Bree . . ." Carver murmured as Mardin trudged along.

"What about them?" Mardin asked softly. The smell was only growing worse, and he knew Carver had to be getting weaker; he could hear it in his voice.

"The Templars . . . don't let the Templars . . . take them . . ."

"The Templars will never take them, not so long as I draw breath, I swear it to you," Mardin vowed.

"Good," was all Carver said, and Mardin prayed as he followed the others, putting one foot carefully in front of the other, that he would do a better job of keeping this promise than he had his last one – and that if the Goddess granted him strength and Carver good fortune, he might not entirely fail that promise, either.


	13. The Wardens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brianna and the others finally stumble across the Wardens in the Deep Roads, giving Carver to them to be put through the Joining. After returning to Kirkwall, Brianna finds that her mother is even angrier than she thought she would be, and she ends up seeking comfort with Mardin, leading to some further revelations of Mardin's life and childhood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a bit of smut in this one towards the end of the chapter, it's not blocked off but it should be pretty obvious where it starts so if you don't want to read it, just stop there and skip to the last few paragraphs which are more plot-related. Hope you all enjoy!

Chapter 13: The Wardens

Brianna sent another blast of lightning at the darkspawn running towards them, bouncing it back as she wiped the sweat off her forehead. She was beginning to have doubts they would survive this latest encounter with the darkspawn. Carver was slumped on the ground where Mardin had carefully set him before drawing his sword and charging at the darkspawn, and she and Anders were standing guard in front of her gravely ill brother as they tried to keep Mardin healed and fighting while keeping any darkspawn that slipped past him away from Carver. Varric stood just in front of them as well, Bianca's bolts flying as he tried to keep the darkspawn back as much as possible. However, he was no more a close range fighter than they were, and though Mardin fought hard, there had been nearly a dozen darkspawn that had set upon them, and he was clearly exhausted, his movements slower than normal and his strength beginning to fail him as he could barely keep the darkspawn off of him, let alone the rest of them.

 _Please, Maker, please_. They were so close, she thought as she sent fire at the next darkspawn to stumble towards them. They had been travelling for hours, and just before the darkspawn had set upon them, Anders had said the Wardens were near. They had to find the Wardens, and they had to save Carver. She had a chance to keep him alive, a chance that had been denied her when Bethany was killed, and she would _not_ fail at this chance, no matter how low her magical energy was or how exhausted she felt. "You said . . . the Wardens were close by, right?" she muttered to Anders, firing an arcane blast at another darkspawn to keep it off Mardin.

He nodded, sending lightning of his own at a darkspawn bearing down on Varric. "They are. They should be nearly –" Two green-fletched arrows thudded in rapid succession into the darkspawn Anders had just sent stumbling, and it fell to the ground heavily. " – here," Anders finished unnecessarily, as three swordsmen joined the darkspawn harrying Mardin, while a mage and a lethally accurate archer behind them began dropping darkspawn with stunning quickness.

"Shit," Anders muttered as he and Brianna kept firing what they could at the darkspawn to help. "It would have to be him."

Brianna cast him a quick, surprised glance as another darkspawn dropped right in front of them, two arrows sprouting from its back. "Him who?"

Before Anders could reply, the last of the darkspawn fell, and the dark-haired archer marched towards them, slinging his bow over his back. "Anders." His tone dripped with contempt and anger. "You're supposed to be dead, aren't you? That is the official story the Commander told Weisshaupt, after all. And it was preferable to think that you couldn't return to us because you had died, and not that you had willfully abandoned your brothers and sisters."

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, Nathaniel," Anders replied with a careless shrug, though Brianna could see the pain in his eyes as the archer, clad all in the dark brown leather armor of a rogue, stopped a few feet away. "But I haven't managed to die just yet."

"That's not why I'm disappointed, Anders, and you know it," Nathaniel snapped, his face framed by his shoulder-length dark hair set in cold, grim lines as his pale gray eyes burned with anger directed solely at Anders. "You fled without a word to anyone, and you knew how much we needed your healing skills. And you know Velanna has never managed to be much good at healing magic. We lost two of our new recruits to wounds only two weeks after you left, you know. Wounds you could have healed, but Velanna couldn't quite manage. She blames herself for that. I blame _you_. And if Velanna had been the one to die . . ." Nathaniel's fists clenched tightly. "We'd be having a very different conversation, I assure you."

Anders paled, looking as though Nathaniel's fist had actually struck him in the gut. "I didn't . . . you know why I left. It wasn't . . . it wasn't for fun or a better life. I left because it was better for everyone if I wasn't there. You know that."

"No, you left because you couldn't face the consequences of your actions," Nathaniel shot back. "You disobeyed the Commander when he told you not to merge with Justice, and when you found out the reason why he'd been right all along, you ran away, like you always do. We could have figured out a way to deal with Justice and your loss of control, but you abandoned us. And now you're bringing civilians into the Deep Roads? Have you lost your mind, Anders?"

"We asked him to bring us," Brianna intervened quickly. She couldn't stand to see the pain on Anders' face as every word Nathaniel spoke struck home as lethally as his arrows. "We would have gone with or without him; he was just trying to keep us safe, that's all."

Nathaniel's gaze darted quickly to her, looking almost surprised to see that there was anyone else there, he'd been so focused on Anders. He sighed, shaking his head. "Then you're the ones who've lost your minds. The Deep Roads aren't a place anyone should want to go unless they have no other choice. And he should have known better."

"We didn't come find you for a lecture," Brianna snapped, starting to get annoyed. They didn't have time for this, not while the taint spread in Carver with every passing moment. Maybe this Nathaniel had a right to be angry with Anders, she didn't know, and right now she didn't much care. She turned and went back to Carver, helping him to his feet, where he swayed unsteadily with an arm around her shoulders. "My brother needs help."

Nathaniel took a long look at Carver before rearing back in surprise in almost the same way Anders had done earlier. "Your brother is tainted?" He didn't wait for confirmation before he turned to Anders. "You want to turn him into a recruit? Put him through the Joining?"

"You know as well as I do it's his only hope of survival," Anders replied evenly.

"And _you_ know as well as I do that the life of a Warden is not necessarily a kindness," Nathaniel retorted. "Nor do we recruit just anyone."

The other Wardens – for Brianna assumed the other people with Nathaniel had to be Wardens – had ranged themselves behind the archer by now, watching the proceedings with interest, while Mardin and Varric came over to join her and Anders. Though his face was pale and drawn with exhaustion, still Mardin came to the other side of Carver and pulled his left arm over his own shoulder, taking the burden of weight off of her. "Let me," he said softly.

She nodded gratefully, carefully letting go of Carver's arm before planting herself directly in front of Nathaniel, hands on her hips. "Carver happens to be a fine warrior," she informed him. "You'd be an idiot not to recruit him."

Nathaniel shook his head. "Be that as it may, I cannot. I might be leading this mission, but I don't have that kind of authority. Only the Commander does."

"Come on, Nathaniel," Anders said quietly. "You know he'd say yes. He gave both of us second chances, didn't he? Besides, Carver has been training under Ayla's brother the last couple of months." He nodded back at Mardin where he stood with Carver.

"What?!" This time true shock registered on Nathaniel's face as his eyes snapped back to Mardin, studying him hard. "Are you saying . . . is he - Ayla's brother, Mardin? But how did you . . ." he cut himself off quickly, darting a swift glance at the Wardens behind him. "That is, how did you end up with Anders?"

"I am Mardin, Ayla's brother," Mardin said with a nod, looking almost amused at Nathaniel's questions and the clear shock that indicated to Brianna that he, like Anders, had to know the truth about where the siblings were from. "And I happened to get a little lost looking for her. Ran into Brianna here on the Wounded Coast, who introduced me to Anders, who said he knew my sister and where I could find her. I've sent word to her, though I haven't heard anything back yet. She is all right still, isn't she?"

"Of course she is. That is, the last time I saw her, she was," Nathaniel amended, and Brianna saw Mardin's face fall a fraction at these words as the Warden continued, "She and the Commander had a mission of their own, and I haven't seen them in over a month. But they were fine then. It's an honour to meet you." He nodded formally at Mardin, who returned the gesture. "And Ayla will be happy to hear that you've . . . turned up. So what say you of the boy's skills?"

"If I were the Captain of my own Order still, I would have recruited him long ago," Mardin replied. "He's a fine swordsman and skilled warrior. Your Wardens would be lucky to have him."

Brianna saw Carver smile with pride at that, even in the midst of his feverish illness, and she couldn't help a smile of her own. She would owe Mardin forever for that smile in the midst of such a dark time – even more so for the fact that he was absolutely sincere in his statement.

"Red's right," Varric added. "Junior might be young, but he fights hard. And I doubt the Wardens are swarming with recruits now that the Blight is over, anyhow."

"Please," Brianna said, turning back to Nathaniel. "He's my brother, and if there's something you can do for him . . . please."

Nathaniel's face softened for the first time since he had approached them, and he sighed, running a hand through his hair as he turned to Anders. "This is no simple thing. This may be as much a death sentence as the sickness itself, and you know it."

"And you know that he'll die anyway," Anders replied. "Take him and try, brother, please. I'm asking you."

Just like that, a cold mask descended over Nathaniel's face again as he frowned. "You lost any right to call me brother when you left. I will take him, but not for you." He turned back to Brianna, adding in a softer tone, "He must come with us now, and you may not see him again. But we will let you know . . . either way."

"Thank you," Brianna told him sincerely, even as she tried to swallow back the tears clogging her throat at the thought of never seeing Carver again. "I owe you more than I can ever repay. You are sure about this?" she asked Carver quietly as Mardin helped him forward towards Nathaniel and the other Wardens.

"Not entirely," Carver muttered as they stopped next to her, "but like I said before, I want to live, and this is the only way to do that."

"We must go quickly if we are to ready the Joining in time," Nathaniel interrupted them gently.

Brianna nodded, and quickly hugged Carver, trying her hardest to keep her tears at bay as she pulled back. "I'll miss you, Carver. If . . . if you can, send letters, and come to visit, please."

Carver nodded, tears shining in his own eyes. "Of course. I'll . . . I'll miss you too, Bree. Take care of Mother."

And before she could say anything else, he started forward again, Mardin helping him until they reached the Wardens. Two of the swordsmen from earlier took Carver from Mardin, supporting him between the two of them as Mardin nodded at Nathaniel, shaking hands with him. "If you see my sister sometime soon, tell her I'm in Kirkwall. I don't think I can come to Ferelden, but if she can come there . . ."

"I'll let her know," Nathaniel promised him, before turning away and relaying instructions to the other Wardens. They left the room without a backwards glance, bearing Carver with them as they took one of the three doors leading out of this particular section of the Deep Roads.

Brianna watched them go until she could no longer see any of them, and didn't even realize she had lost the battle against the silent tears streaming down her face until Mardin squeezed her shoulder, saying softly, "Carver's tough. He'll be all right."

"Junior's stubborn," Varric agreed. "If anyone can survive this, he will. And we need to survive, too. If only to piss my brother off and then slowly boil him in a vat of oil."

Brianna managed a smile, struggling to bring her tears under control as she laid her hand over Mardin's and squeezed it, sending him a grateful look. She would cry later, for Varric was right; they needed to get out of here. "Of course, you're right, Varric. Let's get out of here as fast as we can."

Varric took the lead now, taking them out of a different door than the Wardens had gone out of, one that would lead them back towards Kirkwall and the surface, he said. As they walked, Brianna dropped back next to Anders, who looked more depressed than she'd ever seen him. "Are you going to be all right?"

He smiled wearily at her. "Eventually, I suppose. I knew that wasn't going to be fun, no matter what, but I was hoping it would be a Warden I didn't know well, not somebody whose side I fought at for years. The only way it could have been worse was if it had been the Commander himself. I doubt he's forgiven me any more than Nathaniel has."

Brianna couldn't help but feel bad for Anders; he looked so broken at the thought that the Wardens hadn't forgiven him. "I don't know all the circumstances, of course, but Nathaniel seemed like he was being a bit harsh," she offered, hoping to help make Anders feel better – and to distract herself from her own thoughts.

He shrugged in response. "Nathaniel has always been a bit harsh and . . . blunt, I suppose. He wasn't wrong, though. They did need me . . . and I did run away and abandon them."

"That may be so, but you thought you were doing the right thing for them. You thought you were keeping them safe," Brianna pointed out. "And while, yes, you may have been able to save those two recruits' lives had you stayed with them, think of how many people in Darktown would have died by now if you hadn't set up your clinic. They need you more than the Wardens do. You've saved our lives a few times as well . . . and if you hadn't been down here with us, Carver would have died for sure. I'll be forever grateful to you for that. So, whether the Wardens agree or not, I think you're where you're needed the most, right now."

"I . . . thank you, Hawke," he said, looking surprised and pleased. "That . . . means a lot."

"You're welcome. Now let's get back to Kirkwall; we have people that need us back there." She sternly reminded herself of that fact as they hurried to catch up to Varric, who was keeping a surprisingly quick pace even with his short legs, Mardin by his side. She might not be able to do anything for Carver anymore, but she could finally give her mother the life she deserved. That would be what she would have to focus on, now.

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It was nearly two weeks later when they finally returned to Kirkwall. They'd managed to find an inn not long after leaving the Deep Roads, where they'd all slept for a full day to recover from their exhaustion before buying all the provisions they could from the innkeeper with the treasure they'd acquired and continuing on to Kirkwall. Brianna had never thought she'd be this relieved to see Kirkwall, as she still wasn't entirely sure she considered it home, but her entire body sagged with relief when they passed through the gates, nonetheless. Somehow, they'd made it, and at the very least, she should be able to give her mother her home back. And now that they were back safely, she could finally allow herself to grieve properly over the fact that she hadn't brought Carver back with her, something she'd been determined not to do until she was alone and no longer had to be Hawke, the leader, but could allow herself to be Brianna, the person, instead.

"Home, sweet home," Varric declared, breaking through her thoughts as he threw his arms wide. "Finally. I wonder if Bartrand came back to the city." He glanced around as though expecting to see Bartrand strolling down the street towards them before continuing, "You think I'd be that lucky?"

"Just make sure you let me know when you find him," Brianna said tightly, unable to prevent her anger at the mention of Bartrand. The only other thing that had allowed her to keep her sanity was blaming Bartrand entirely for what had happened – and trying to reassure herself that it wasn't her fault for bringing Carver along in the first place. "He needs to pay," she told Varric firmly. Maybe then she'd feel better about the whole incident.

"Trust me, you'll be the first to know." Varric hesitated for a moment before he said quietly, "I'm . . . sorry about what happened to Carver. I hope he makes it."

"It's not your fault," Brianna replied gently, knowing that Varric felt as guilty as she did, with even less cause.

"He'll make it," Anders reassured her. "Carver's stronger than he thinks, and the fact that he survived with the taint that long already is a good sign."

Mardin nodded in agreement. "He won't die so easily, not now that he has a chance to live. You'll see him again."

"Thank you." Brianna smiled at him, grateful not for the first time in the last two weeks that he always seemed to know what to say to make her feel at least a little bit better.

Varric shook his head. "I should have seen Bartrand's betrayal coming." He glanced over at Mardin. "Especially after what you said, Red. But I didn't listen and . . ." He scowled, clenching his fists. "I'll find that maggot if it's the last thing I do."

"You didn't want to think that way of your own brother," Mardin replied, "and no one can blame you for that. I should have been more careful, and trusted my instincts more."

"Look, you all need to stop blaming yourselves. All of you," Anders said sternly, looking significantly at Brianna. She nodded in response, knowing he was right even as he went on, "The only person to blame is Bartrand, and whoever created that idol. And that's it."

"Well, Blondie, I suppose you're right." Varric forced a smile before he looked to Brianna. "I imagine you'll be heading home to . . . tell the family?"

Brianna sighed. She might be relieved to be back home, but she was dreading the prospect of telling her mother what had occurred. "Yes, I suppose I don't have much choice. Mother is . . . not going to take this well."

"Well, you'll be a wealthy woman, Hawke." Varric jingled the pouch he'd stuffed full of gems and coins, similar to the one they all carried. "It wasn't all for nothing. I'll be at the Hanged Man, getting very drunk, if you need me." She nodded at him, forcing a smile for his sake before he walked away in the direction of Lowtown.

 _But what if it was all for nothing?_ Brianna wondered as she watched him go. The expedition was supposed to have been her way to provide a better life for both her mother and Carver. Now Carver might be dead, and even if he wasn't, he would never be able to live in the new home she hoped to get for them, and Mother . . . well, Mother might not ever forgive her for bringing him into the Deep Roads in the first place.

"It'll be all right, Hawke," Anders told her quietly, as if sensing her thoughts. "You'll see. I need to go back to the clinic; there are probably a lot of people that need healing by now. But if you need anything, just let me know."

"Thanks, Anders, I will." She waved goodbye to him as he headed for Darktown, leaving her and Mardin alone in the street.

She sighed, looking up at him. "I suppose I should go tell Mother now."

"Even if she's mad, she'll forgive you," Mardin said gently. "Take all the time you need with her, okay? I'll let the others know."

"Oh, Maker's breath, Merrill!" Brianna exclaimed. She'd been so focused on telling her mother, she hadn't even thought of the other people that she needed to tell. "She'll be so upset! I should –"

"I'll do it," Mardin cut her off. "You have enough to worry about with your mother, and it wouldn't be the first time I've had to tell people something like this. Just go tell your mother, and if you need me later, I'll be back at the mansion, okay?"

"Okay," she said at last, "if you're sure." He nodded firmly. "Then, I appreciate it, Mardin. Thank you."

He waved her off, looking slightly embarrassed at her fervent gratitude. "It's the least I can do."

"No, it's really not." She nodded to herself, before closing the distance between them and standing up on tiptoe to kiss his stubbled cheek gently. He had definitely earned himself a second chance, once she felt more like herself again. "I'll see you later."

He looked a little shocked at her action, but he nodded at her before she turned and headed to Gamlen's house, leaving him to go on to the alienage.

Once she'd reached the steps in Lowtown that headed up to Gamlen's house, she halted, feeling her heart pound unsteadily and her palms starting to sweat. She didn't know how to begin telling her mother this, or where she would even find the courage to do so, but she knew she had to; there was no other choice.

Slowly, reluctantly, she made her way up the stairs and opened the door. It led directly into the main room, which served as a combination of kitchen and sitting room. Her mother was sitting in one of the rickety chairs that served as furniture, but her head jerked up as soon as the door opened, and her eyes lit up as Brianna stepped through the door.

Before Brianna could even say anything, Mother had fairly flown across the room to her, throwing her arms around her in a tight hug before she pulled back, beaming. "Oh, my baby! You made it home!" She looked beyond Brianna's shoulder, frowning as she realized that no one stood on the steps behind her. "Carver isn't with you?"

Brianna slowly shook her head, searching for words and wishing to the Maker that she had any other answer to give besides, "No. He's . . . um . . ."

Mother's eyes went wide with fear. "Is he . . . coming back?"

"I . . . I don't know," Brianna admitted. "Eventually, he might be, but I'm . . . waiting to hear. He's . . . you remember what happened to Wesley?" When her mother nodded, looking pale and shell-shocked, she went on, "While we were in the Deep Roads, we fought a lot of darkspawn, and eventually . . . Carver became infected with the taint, like Wesley. But we had a Warden with us, this time, Anders, I mean," she continued quickly, seeing the grief and tears beginning to well up in her mother's eyes, "and he said the Joining could save Carver. We took him to some other Wardens, and they're going to put Carver through the Joining. And . . . and if he makes it, if he becomes a Warden, they'll send us word."

"If?!" Her mother fairly shrieked. "You mean he might not survive this Joining either?!"

Brianna reluctantly shook her head. "Apparently . . . not everyone does. But I'm sure Carver will." _Maker, please say he will_.

That was when Mother collapsed to her knees on the floor, sobbing broken-heartedly, much like she had the entire ship ride to Kirkwall after Bethany had died. Brianna closed the door quietly behind herself before she knelt on the floor, trying to put her arms around her mother, but Mother pushed her away, meeting her gaze accusingly as she cried, "Why did you take him with you? I told you not to! I told you something would happen! You were supposed to protect him! You said you'd bring him back safely, but you didn't! Just like you didn't stop Bethany!"

It would, Brianna thought dully, have hurt less if her mother had slapped her, or even stabbed her in the heart with a dagger. In fact, it felt rather like a dagger was slowly being turned in her heart, even now. She had failed Bethany, it was true, but Carver would survive . . . wouldn't he? Her eyes burned with tears that she refused to let fall in front of her mother as she said quietly, "I did everything I could to protect him, I promise you. And he'll make it through the Joining, you'll see. We'll see him again."

"What if he doesn't?" her mother wailed. "Oh, my baby boy! I should never have listened to you! I should never have let you take him with you!"

That was it. She couldn't take it anymore, not when she felt like her heart had been thoroughly shredded to pieces. It was one thing to see her mother cry, it was another thing entirely to try to comfort her mother while she blamed her for what had happened, and she just couldn't do it. She stood up, whirling away from her mother through the sudden blur of tears and stalking out the door. Let Gamlen comfort her whenever he got home; at least she wouldn't blame _him_.

She walked through Lowtown in a daze, unsure of where to go or what to do. She thought of going to the Hanged Man, but there would be too many people there for her to completely break down the way she wanted to, and she didn't want so many strangers to see her weakness. The same held true for Aveline and the barracks; she might even be too busy right now to talk, for it was only late afternoon. Mardin, she decided at last, remembering how he always knew what to say to make her feel better – and how well he understood the burden of being the older sibling, the protector. She would go to the mansion, and if he wasn't back yet, she'd wait until he was, and hope that he could set her mind and heart at ease.

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"What happened?" Mardin asked softly, pausing in the doorway of his room when he saw her.

Brianna set down the wine bottle she'd just taken a long swig out of that Fenris had provided for her on the small table next to the bed. Fenris had been surprisingly understanding when she'd burst into the mansion earlier, tears finally streaming down her face when she simply couldn't hold them in any longer. She'd managed to give him some sort of explanation about Carver between her sobs and had asked if she could wait for Mardin to come back. Fenris had simply nodded wordlessly, steering her to Mardin's room and handing her the bottle of wine he'd clearly just brought up from the cellars for himself before telling her he'd send Mardin to her as soon as he got back and leaving her alone in the room with her grief.

She'd appreciated the fact that Fenris had understood she didn't want him seeing her like this, and would prefer to be alone until she could talk to Mardin, though she suspected his willingness to leave her alone stemmed as much from the fact that he was equally uncomfortable seeing her like this as it was any real understanding on his part. At any rate, she'd availed herself of the bottle of wine he left her, knowing it would dull some of the pain while she'd curled up on Mardin's bed to wait for him. It was, after all, far more comfortable than the stiff wooden chairs in the room, and if she got really drunk from the wine, it would be much harder to fall off the wide bed than the chairs. She didn't know how long she'd waited for Mardin, but he was finally here, and she'd managed to calm herself down at last.

At least, she thought she had until she tried to explain to him why she was here. "Mother . . ." she swallowed down the unbidden tears that welled up in her throat as she remembered the whole incident anew. "She blamed me for what happened to Carver, for failing to protect him. Said that she shouldn't have listened to me, shouldn't have let him go with me. And she blamed me for not stopping Bethany back then, either. I always knew . . ." This time she couldn't stop the sob from escaping, or the tears that spilled down her cheeks again as she finally choked out, "deep down, that she blamed me for Bethany, but she'd never actually said it out loud before . . ." She couldn't hold it in any longer, burying her face in her hands as the grief overwhelmed her body and she dissolved into full tears.

"Ah, Goddess," she heard Mardin mutter before he closed the door behind him, crossing the room to her in mere seconds and climbing onto the bed with her. He carefully pulled her into his arms, and she went willingly, seeking some comfort, any kind of comfort, after what had happened, after holding her feelings in for so long. She buried her face in his chest, though the light chainmail he still wore wasn't exactly comfortable, and curled up against him while he settled her on his lap, wrapping his arms gently around her and stroking her hair as he murmured above her head, "Do you want me to talk, listen, or just hold you?"

She felt a brief flash of shock – and grateful surprise – that he knew enough to ask the question before she managed to reply, "Talk – I think." But she didn't lift her head, or try to move out of his arms, hoping he would understand that she wanted him to hold her still while he did talk. She was surprised at how comforting it felt to have his arms around her, and she was far from ready to lose that feeling - it had been so long since she'd felt it.

And he seemed to understand the unspoken demand, for he didn't let her go and continued to gently stroke her hair with one hand as he said softly, "It doesn't matter what your mother said. What happened to Bethany wasn't your fault, and neither was what happened to Carver. I told you before, they made their own choices, and no matter how you feel about it, it wasn't your right to tell them otherwise, to force them to go against their choices. And I'm sure your mother knows that, too. People say things they don't really mean when they're grieving and upset. I'm sure she regretted what she said as soon as you left. And if she didn't, she should. But . . ." he hesitated a moment, his arms tightening reflexively around her before he went on, "I understand how you feel. It's hard, when you've been looking after them all their lives, to let them make dangerous choices without feeling responsible for everything that happens. And I understand how hard the waiting, the not knowing, is. For that first week after my sister disappeared, I nearly went insane trying to find out what happened. I was starting to think it would be better to find her dead than to keep not knowing, because at least then it would be over. But every time I thought that . . . I thought of how much it would hurt, and then I would think I didn't want to know for sure, because I could imagine she was still alive. And my thoughts just kept cycling like that, around and around, until I thought I'd go mad."

She lifted her head a little, having gotten her tears more under control while listening to him, to the soothing rumble of his deep voice and the clear pain in it when he spoke about his sister's disappearance. "How did you deal with it?" she asked softly, looking up at him.

He smiled wryly at her. "Not well. I barely slept or ate for the first few days, I was searching so frantically for her. I'd spent all my life protecting her, keeping her safe, only to lose her to a simple walk in the woods she'd done a hundred times before. Lorcan, my lieutenant, eventually put his foot down and told me I had to sleep, had to take care of myself or I'd get myself killed before I could find her. So I did. Forced myself to eat even though I wasn't hungry, and got a sleeping potion from a healer. And finally, we got word what had happened, that she'd been sent here. So at least I knew where she was, then. But that didn't mean that she couldn't die at any time, and I wouldn't know it. Cranin couldn't see what was happening to her here, after all, and he didn't know for sure if she was alive still, even when he sent me after her. And even though I've got word from Anders and Nathaniel both, now, that she's still alive, neither of them has seen her recently, so it still doesn't mean . . ." he shrugged, trailing off, pain flashing through his eyes.

"That she couldn't die any time now," Brianna finished for him. "And you wouldn't be there to protect her." Yes, she understood exactly how he felt, just as she knew he understood how she felt.

Mardin sighed, absentmindedly threading his hand through her hair, the look in his eyes faraway. "Exactly. So I try to keep myself busy, try not to think about it too much. Training, fighting, whatever I can do to keep my mind off it."

Keep her mind off it, Brianna thought. Right, that was what she had to do. Thinking about it constantly, wondering if Carver had been through the Joining yet, wondering if he was alive or dead or when word would arrive to let her know was not helping. Dwelling on it would only make her sick with grief. "So distract me," she told him, dragging his gaze back down to her as his eyes widened. "Tell me something about yourself, take my mind off of Carver." Her lips twitched slightly as she wondered what he thought she'd been about to say. Though that wouldn't be a bad idea, either, she thought idly.

"Right." His face went carefully blank again, though he didn't let her go, nor did the free hand that wasn't snug on her back stop playing with her hair. And she didn't ask him to stop, or push him away as he asked, "What do you want to know?"

"Tell me about your childhood. What it was like, what your family was like, if you remember anything about your mother. Please," she added softly when she saw his jaw tighten. "I want to know." She _needed_ to know. If there was ever to be anything between them – and she was just starting to realize now how badly she wanted there to be something between them once more – she needed to know more about the version of Mardin who was honest about his feelings, not just the flippant, easygoing version that teased her. As much as she enjoyed that version, she wanted to know all of him, not just the careful face that he showed to the rest of the world.

She wasn't quite sure how to articulate that, though; she'd never been interested in a man who was so close-mouthed about himself. He must have read something in her pleading expression that decided him, however, for after a long moment, he nodded.

"My childhood – before Mother died, that is – was actually terrific." He wasn't looking at her, but rather at the wall opposite, as though he could see something there she couldn't. "Mother and Father were so in love and happy together – and they loved us so much. Ayla and I, that is. It couldn't have been perfect all the time, of course, but from what I can remember now, it feels like it was. Because . . . after she died, it was like everything just . . . went dark."

Brianna could _feel_ the pain in his words, and she was suddenly appalled at herself for asking something so personal. He'd spoken of his father, but never about his mother besides saying that she had died when he was young. She'd thought that he didn't talk about her because he'd been too young to remember anything. Now she realized he _had_ been old enough to remember, and old enough for that memory of her to shape every bit of his life afterwards. "Mardin, if you –"

"No, it's fine," he cut her off gently, finally looking down at her and smiling faintly. "I decided I do want to talk about it, so I will." Realizing how determined he looked, as though he were drawing poison from a wound, she snapped her mouth shut and nodded as he went on, "Mother was amazing. She was warm and kind, funny . . . it seemed like she always had a smile on her face, and time for me or Ayla. She was gorgeous, too. Long golden hair, bright green eyes . . . she just seemed to . . . shine. And she was a mage, like you."

"She was?" Brianna asked, surprised. "But you – "

"Don't have an ounce of magic in me?" he finished for her, smiling wryly. "No, I don't. She was a little disappointed about that, I think. The year she . . . got sick, I was seven, and by then, most mages in my world have shown some sign of magical talent. An accidental spell, or something. I hadn't shown any signs. 'You'll end up being a swordsman, like your father,' she said. 'You look just like him, you might as well fight like him, too. I'll have to rely on your sister to carry on the magical talent in the family.' Ayla was only three, and still had plenty of time to show some magic. Of course," he shrugged, "she never did have any magic, either. I often wonder what Mother would have thought of it, both of us following in Father's footsteps and not hers."

"She would have been proud of you, I'm sure," Brianna told him gently, tugging his hand away from her hair so she could squeeze it with her own, threading her fingers through his. "I wonder what that would be like, though, for your parents to _hope_ that you'd show signs of magic. I remember when I was seven, I almost burned our barn down with my first display. Father . . . he looked like he didn't know whether to be proud or worried, and Mother just looked . . . scared. I'm sure she was just scared for me, knowing what it meant for my life, but still, it would've been nice to just see pride. With Bethany, I think they were almost expecting either her or Carver, or both, to show signs, so when she caused a snowstorm in the house, they managed not to look worried or scared. They still didn't look happy, at least, not until Carver said we could build a snowman in the house. Then it became a little more fun." She smiled faintly at the memory, though it pained her as much as it made her happy to remember the snowman they'd built and the snowball fight they'd had until the spell had disappeared.

He squeezed her hand in turn. "I'm sure they were proud of you, too. And that your mother still is. It's just a bit different in my world, where the mages have their own Order, just as we shifters do, and just as the archers do. There's always been a bit of a friendly rivalry between the Orders, which one is more helpful to the King and the rest of the country, that sort of thing, and my mother belonged to the mage Order, so she liked to tease my father a bit. Of course, she had to take some time off to have each one of us, and she'd lightened her duties quite a bit to be around for us. Otherwise she might have been a Captain herself. Or once we were older, she still might have become one, had she lived."

"So what – if you don't mind talking about it, of course," she added hastily, "what happened? You said she got sick?"

He nodded, frowning, pulling her a little closer as if for comfort. "That last year – she started to lose some weight, have less energy, and she was looking more tired. She was fine, she'd say. She was just working too hard, or not sleeping enough, or it was exhausting keeping up with two young children. But eventually Father realized something was wrong, and he took her to the Master Healer, but . . . there was nothing he could do. Healing magic can't stop damage the body is doing to itself, he said. It can't fix organs that keep damaging themselves, at least not permanently." He wasn't looking at her again, she noticed as he finished quietly, "At best, it only 'prolongs the suffering'. Mother didn't want that, so we took her home and we just . . . waited."

"Healing magic can't fix those kinds of illnesses," Brianna agreed softly. What had happened to Mardin's mother sounded remarkably like what had happened to her father. Only there had been no Master Healer to go to, just her and Bethany trying their best to use what little healing magic they knew to keep their father alive, once he was too sick to do it himself. In spite of being younger than her, Bethany had always been better at healing magic; like Anders, she'd had a natural talent for it. Even still, with both of them trying their hardest, it hadn't worked, and in the end, they had only been able to wait, too. "It couldn't keep my father alive, either."

"I'm sorry," he said. "That must have been hard for you, especially when you were probably the one trying to heal him."

She nodded, willing the tears pricking at her eyes again not to come out. This was about his grief right now, not hers. She had the feeling he'd never told this story to anyone – and he obviously needed to. "Bethany and I both, but it didn't seem to make any difference. In the end, all we could do was wait, too. I'm so sorry about your mother. Losing her must have been very hard, especially when you were so young. At least I was an adult by the time Father passed away."

He sighed, leaning back against the headboard of the bed and closing his eyes, though he pulled her with him, and she went willingly. "It was hard. Harder still because I didn't only lose my mother. The father I knew died that day too. Before then, he'd always been happy, joking, easygoing, optimistic. That was all gone the instant my mother died."

Brianna nodded, laying her head against his chest as he wrapped his arm around her a bit tighter. "My mother was never the same after my father died, either."

He shook his head. "It wasn't just that. In my world, there's something we call the life-mate bond. It's a spell of sorts, I suppose, that couples in my world can choose to undergo if they want a deeper commitment to one another. It binds them together, lets them feel everything their mate is feeling, whether it be love, desire, or pain. And if the bond becomes strong enough, the pain of one's death may actually cause the death of their mate, as well, even if their mate isn't sick or wounded. It also means they can share strength with one another if they _are_ sick or wounded. Mother refused to let Father do that, of course. She wanted to make sure that he didn't die with her, that he had all the strength he needed to survive, both for his sake and ours. Even still . . . he almost didn't make it. When she died, he just . . . fell. Like he'd been shot with an arrow. He didn't wake up for three days. And to this day, I still think the only reason he did was because Ayla wouldn't stop crying, screaming for him to wake up, for Mother to come back, and I kept begging him to wake up, too. I told him we needed him, that I didn't know what to do, that I couldn't get her to stop crying. And finally . . . he woke up."

"Maker, Mardin . . ." Brianna breathed softly, appalled as she lifted her head to look up at him. His eyes were still squeezed shut, but she could still see the pain that twisted his face - and the few stray tears that trickled down it that he hadn't been able to stop. She couldn't even begin to imagine what he must have gone through, so young, with his mother dead, his father unconscious and his younger sister hysterical. At least when her father passed away, she'd been old enough to have some idea of what to do, and her siblings had been old enough to understand. She didn't have any idea how she would have dealt with all that when still a child herself. "Didn't you have anyone else around to help?"

He nodded slowly, eyes still closed. "My uncles and their mates were there, trying to help, but my sister wouldn't go near them. They'd taken Mother away after she'd died, and so Ayla wouldn't leave Father's side, afraid they'd take him away too. And I couldn't leave her."

"Of course you couldn't," she said softly, reaching up to touch his face gently and wipe the stray tears away. He leaned his head into her hand, taking a deep breath.

"Anyway," he went on after a moment, opening his eyes, though he still didn't meet hers, "once Father did finally wake up, he was never the same. He was just . . . a shell of himself. Don't get me wrong, he was still a good father, and he did the best he could, but that optimism, that sense of humour, was all just . . . gone. It took days before he even looked normal, and he never smiled the same. It was nearly a year before he even started to joke with us a little bit, and it was nowhere near as often as he used to. Like I said, everything was just . . . darker after. In some ways, I think Ayla is luckier because she was too young to remember what it was like, and what was missing afterwards - and I couldn't bring myself to tell her, either. And in other ways . . . I feel guilty that she doesn't know. The memories hurt, but . . ." he shrugged.

"You wouldn't give them up for anything," Brianna finished for him softly, dropping her hand away from his face finally, and he nodded. She understood; as much as it hurt sometimes to remember Bethany and her father and what it had been like when they were both still alive, it was also sometimes wonderful to remember how happy they'd all been then, how simple life had been compared to now. She just prayed that Carver was not going to become only a memory as they had; she didn't think she could deal with that, too.

"I'm sorry," Mardin said softly, obviously seeing that Carver was on her mind again when he finally looked down at her. "This clearly didn't help take your mind off of things."

"No, it didn't, but that's okay. I was the one that asked." She knew, however, what _would_ take her mind off of Carver – and everything else. "I've thought of a better distraction, though. Kiss me."

"What?" He blinked at her, looking shocked, though she could see his eyes already starting to darken at the thought. "You've changed your mind, then? You're giving me a second chance?"

"Yes. I am going to have some conditions, but we can talk about that later. Right now, though . . ." She pulled away from him so she could sit up on her knees, facing him. "I don't want to think. And when you kiss me, I can't think."

He stared at her for a long moment before he muttered something that sounded like a curse in a foreign language. He threaded his hand in her hair once more, jerking her head close before he growled, "I can't either," and his mouth closed over hers.

She'd expected the kiss to be savage and heated, as it had been before, and was surprised to find that instead, it was almost tender. He kissed her deeply, slowly, gently, searching her mouth with infinite patience as though looking for hidden treasure, and she let out a sigh of pure pleasure as her body melted and her mind finally quieted.

She wound her arms around his neck, sliding one hand into his surprisingly soft hair and clutching his head closer as his lips moved down her neck, suckling gently and lighting a trail of fire in their wake. Before she'd quite realized what she was doing, she'd fallen back to the bed and pulled him down with her, revelling in the weight of his body and the growing hardness currently pressed into her thigh.

"Brianna . . ." he breathed into her neck, trailing his lips further down to the collar of her robes. She squirmed beneath him, fully intent on driving him to distraction and enjoying the liquid heat spreading through her body, and so didn't notice immediately when he lifted the upper half of his body off of her. She did notice, though, when he unlaced the front of her robes, shoving them hastily aside and pushing her breastband down before the heat of his mouth suddenly descended on her left nipple, suckling hard.

"Mardin!" she gasped, arching against him as a bolt of white-hot lust shot straight through her body at the sensation of his mouth pulling on her, feasting on her. One of his hands slipped down to squeeze her ass, pushing her hips into his as he ground against her, while the other toyed with her breast, rubbing the nipple not currently covered by his mouth, bringing it to a hard peak.

Her body was simply alive, thrumming and singing with sensation, and she was enjoying every second of it. Every second of the lust consuming her, drowning out any other thoughts or worries that she had, and she wanted him to enjoy it as much as she was. So even as he was switching his attentions to her other breast, she slipped her hand between their bodies, beneath the waist of his leggings, and stroked the hard length of him.

He froze, his head lifting up, his eyes wild and blazing blue as they met hers. She smiled at him before stroking him again, and he let out a guttural moan, bucking against her before he arched back, pulling her hand away and putting room between them as his hands slid to her waist, pulling almost frantically at the leggings she wore beneath her robes. He tugged them down along with her smallclothes, only bringing them about halfway down her legs before his mouth was suddenly buried between her legs and he was feasting on her like a starving man.

It was her turn to freeze as her hands now gripped the covers beneath her as passion crashed over her body, all centering on the sensation of his mouth and tongue as he licked at her, tasted of her, drank from her while her hips rocked beneath him of their own accord, causing him to pin her to the bed with an arm over her hips. He groaned when she gripped his head tightly in her own hands, tugging at his hair, the sound of his groan vibrating deliciously all through her as she felt the wave of lust building ever higher in her. "Maker, don't stop," she begged him.

He lifted his head again, his gaze scorching right through her. "Never. Goddess, you taste even better than I thought – and you still haven't screamed for me." Before she could answer that, he'd dipped his head again and was suckling at her nub while he slid one calloused finger deeply within her. She moaned at the exquisite sensation, but when he slid a second finger in and crooked them deep within her while his mouth continued to work hotly at her, she did scream as her body convulsed, a burst of blue magic flaring through both her and Mardin and briefly lighting the room around them.

Was that what Father had meant by losing control? she wondered dimly, hearing Mardin say, "That's new." She raised her head just enough to peak at him, her body feeling limp and thoroughly sated, to see him looking down at her with a bemused grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"It's new for me too," she admitted softly, and his grin widened. "Father did say something about what could happen when a mage loses control. You're not . . . hurt, are you?"

"No, of course not. It just felt . . . warm. A bit like your healing magic, actually." His grin turned a bit predatory as his gaze roved over her body again. "I think I'd like to see how often I can make you do that. But . . ." he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he sat up fully. "I don't think now is a good time to find out, or go any further than this."

"What?" she exclaimed, shocked. She looked down at the very prominent bulge showing through the drake-scale leggings he still wore. "But you haven't . . ."

"I know," he interrupted her. His head tipped back as he let out a long breath, his fists clenching tightly together so that his knuckles were nearly white. "Believe me, I know. But you've been drinking, and you're grieving. I shouldn't have even done that much, but I couldn't help myself. Anyway, like I told you before, I don't want you to regret our first time together. And you might regret it if things go any farther. But I only have so much self-control, which really isn't much where you're concerned, actually, so if you want to stay here tonight, I'll have to go find another bed."

"What are you talking about?" she asked, confused. "When did you ever talk about me regretting our first time?"

He smiled. "You really were drunk that night, weren't you?"

"Oh, Maker." She felt her face flame as she finally realized what he was talking about – the night she'd gotten so drunk he'd carried her home, and she still couldn't remember what she'd said to him. Obviously it was worse than she'd thought. "What did I say?"

"You don't remember?" When she shook her head, he went on, "You told me I could put my hands wherever I wanted, and I told you not to tempt me like that, because I wanted you to remember our first time together, and not regret it. And that I wanted you to really know what you wanted. You were too drunk then, and besides being a little drunk again now, you're still not really yourself. I'd rather wait until you are. We'll just call this kissing with a little something extra, and when your . . . wait is over, and you're sure that you want to go further, let me know."

She couldn't help but smile as she realized what a gentleman he really was at heart, even when he was struggling to control his desire for her. He'd refused to take advantage of her when she was drunk and trying to seduce him, and he was refusing to take things any further now when he thought she wasn't quite in control of herself, either, despite how much he clearly wanted to. And he was right; she hadn't really asked him to kiss her this time because she'd wanted him, or not only because of that. She just hadn't wanted to think, and now that she was, she realized she didn't want their first time together to be tainted by memories of what had happened earlier in the day. There really was more to him than she'd realized at first, she thought as she tugged her clothes back into place, straightening herself out, and he more than deserved the second chance she'd decided to give him.

"Thank you, Mardin, really," she told him. "You have no idea how much I appreciate everything you've done, but especially that you're willing to wait until I'm more myself again. I think I'm all right to go home now; Mother's probably calmed down by now, and so have I. And I will definitely let you know when I'm feeling more myself again, and when it's just you I want, and not a distraction. And I'm sorry; that wasn't really fair of me to ask you that."

He grinned at her. "Believe me, it was more than fair. I enjoyed every bit of it as much as you did."

"I doubt that," she told him honestly, and he laughed, making her smile at the sound. She was sure it had been weeks since she'd last heard him laugh; the Deep Roads had been hard on all of them. To hear him laugh now made her feel lighter than she'd ever expected to after everything that had happened today, and she marvelled at how easily he'd brightened her mood. "Thank you, again," she said as she slid off the bed. "I'm sorry to have cried all over you like that, and I appreciate how well you handled it. Most men wouldn't have done so well with it."

"You're most welcome," he replied, though she noticed he didn't get off the bed to walk her to the door, and his hands were still tightly clenched. "I have a little sister, after all, so I do have some experience in that area, even though it's been years since I saw Ayla cry. It seems I still remember the right questions to ask."

"You really do," she agreed before she crossed to the door, telling herself that leaving, that waiting right now, was the right thing to do. She turned as she reached the door. "I'll see you soon, then."

He nodded. "I hope so. And like I said before, if you need anything, just ask. You know where I'll be."

"I do, and I appreciate the offer more than you know. We'll see them both soon – your sister and my brother. I'm sure of it."

"We will," he agreed firmly, and she left his room with a final, grateful nod to him, because she really believed it now. She would see her brother again, because she hadn't failed him, not this time. And now, she would go make sure that her mother understood that, too, for she didn't want a rift between them when there was so little of their family left. And thanks to Mardin, she had the strength to fix things with her mother. She would owe him more than he ever knew for being the first person in years to comfort her and look after her; one day soon, she would show him the extent of her gratitude.


	14. Family Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mardin and Brianna establish some new rules for their relationship. Later, while on a mission to the Wounded Coast, they run into some familiar faces in an unexpected place.

Chapter 14: Family Reunion

Mardin made his way down the steps from the Viscount's Keep. He'd just been to see Brianna's friend Aveline, the Captain of Kirkwall's City Guard, about whether he'd assist in training her guards. In the end, they'd come to an agreement that had satisfied both of them; he'd come to the training grounds three times a week for the afternoon and put the guards through drills while she supervised, so long as he didn't have to be somewhere else. He found that he liked Aveline; she was no-nonsense, loyal and blunt, and cared deeply for the men and women under her command, something he could appreciate.

However, it wasn't her that his thoughts lingered on as he reached the bottom of the stairs; it was, as it had been for the past week since their return from the Deep Roads, on Brianna and the afternoon they'd spent together the day they'd returned.

Their encounter that day had shaken him more than he'd cared to admit. It was not because his passion for her was more consuming than he'd realized at first, or so much out of his control. Or, not only because of that. He'd never had a lot of self-control when it came to lust, since he'd never needed to, but he'd surprised even himself with how little control he had with Brianna. In spite of knowing that she'd been drinking, was grieving and not in her right mind, he'd been unable to stop himself from giving her the kiss she'd asked for, and so much more. Indeed, he admitted, he would've bedded her then and there once he'd finished tasting her, had not that burst of her magic surprised him so much that he'd been able to gain control of himself. Even then, it had taken everything he had to let her leave.

Still, though he regretted his loss of control, he didn't regret what it had led to; how could he? He'd finally discovered that the taste of her arousal was not only as good as the smell, but was in fact better; heady, sweet, devastating, overwhelming. He wanted to taste her again so badly he'd agree to almost anything she asked of him, he thought, once she gave him those conditions she'd talked of. He had seen little of her this past week, though, as she spent time with her mother, helped Varric sell the treasure they'd acquired, and went about petitioning the Viscount to reclaim her mother's home.

Which was fine, he told himself for what seemed like the hundredth time. He could wait, now that he knew he would get a second chance; he wasn't entirely without patience, after all. Besides, it was probably just as well to have some space from her and from the confusing emotions she'd aroused within him. That was what had truly shaken him that day; not his desire for her, but that it had actually pained him to see her cry, to see her grieve and blame herself for what had happened. He would have done anything to make her feel better, to comfort her, and indeed, he had.

When she'd asked about his mother, about his childhood, he'd told her, because he would have done anything she asked right then. He'd told her everything about his mother's death and what he'd lost, something he'd never told anyone before, ever. He and Father had never spoken about the circumstances surrounding Mother's death; he suspected Father had been no more capable of talking about it than he had. He'd told Ayla a bit, when she was older and had pestered him, but he'd protected her from most of the messy details of it; he couldn't bear to burden his little sister with the knowledge of what they'd lost. And to anyone else who'd ever asked, friends and fellow Order members and former lovers, he'd only said that she died of an illness when he was young, and had refused to offer anything further.

But all Brianna had had to do was ask, and he'd spilled the whole story right at her feet. And oddly enough, he'd actually felt _better_ after telling her, after she'd comforted him and wiped away the few stray tears he'd been too weak to prevent. That was the most terrifying part of all; that she'd succeeded in comforting him, that he'd wanted to tell her more, to spill his guts to her and show her everything he felt, every messy, complicated emotion.

He didn't _do_ complicated; he never had. The longest he'd ever been with a woman was six months with an amazingly flexible member of the King's Knights. And complicated emotions had never entered into that; he'd enjoyed her company, laughing and joking with her, sparring with her both in bed and out, but that was it.

He steered clear of complicated emotions with women because that could lead to love, and he refused to make himself that vulnerable. He only had one person left in any world that he loved, and that was his sister. He didn't need to add anyone to that list, or he'd end up just like his father, a mere shell of his former self.

Still, he couldn't steer clear of Brianna. Besides the fact that his desire for her was so deep, so sharp and immediate that he'd never be able to stop thinking about it until he'd had her in full, was the fact that she was part of his destiny here in Thedas. He couldn't avoid her even if he wanted to; he had a destiny to fulfill.

He'd just have to make sure he kept it simple, that was all, he reassured himself. He was still in control; he could lock away the complicated emotions and keep everything simple between them. He cared for her, and that was fine; he cared for a lot of people. He wanted her, and that was fine too. He'd wanted – and had – a lot of women. He'd just make sure his feelings never went any further than that, because they couldn't, and because he wouldn't allow it.

"Mardin!" Her voice cut through his thoughts as he crossed one of the many courtyards in Hightown, and he halted, turning to see Brianna walking towards him as though his thoughts had conjured her up, her smile bright, sending a shaft of pure want through him. "I was actually just on my way to the mansion to find you and Fenris. I've got some news, and a favour to ask."

"Good news, I hope?" he asked casually, a little disappointed she hadn't only been coming to see him. Which meant the favour probably wasn't precisely what he wanted it to be, either.

She stopped just in front of him, still smiling, and he could see the relief in her eyes. "Very good news. I got a letter yesterday from Carver; he's survived the Joining and will be heading back to Ferelden soon with Nathaniel and the other Wardens."

"That's great," he said sincerely. He'd become fond of Carver himself during their weeks of training, and was relieved to hear he was alive, and also that he'd not entirely failed his vow to keep him safe. "I told you he'd be all right."

"You did. Thank you, again, for everything." She hugged him, startling him not only with how automatically he returned the hug, but also with the unfamiliar warmth that spread through his chest when he did.

 _Keep it simple_. And what was simpler than lust? He breathed deeply of the smell of vanilla and lemon that surrounded her, that floated up from the waves of her chocolate-brown hair, letting it spike his arousal, and whispered in her ear, "Have I told you how beautiful you look lately? Or how good you smell?"

He was pleased when he felt the shiver go through her as he brushed his lips down her neck, nibbling at the silky skin there, and when he smelled the sudden spike of her arousal from his action, making his blood burn. She put a hand to his chest, though, pushing him back lightly, and he sighed as he reluctantly let her.

"No, you haven't," she said, smiling up at him again even as she shook her head, "but thank you for that, too. Though next time you might want to tell me somewhere a little more private." She nodded at the various people walking by them and milling about Hightown in the bright summer sunshine.

"I suppose that's a good point." He grinned at her. "Want to go somewhere more private, and I can tell you how you taste like honey and wine?"

Her remarkable violet eyes flared with lust, and he felt smug satisfaction both when he saw it and when he smelled the fresh wave of her arousal. Yes, honey and wine, definitely. "Not right now," she replied, though she sounded a trifle breathless. She took his arm and tugged on it to get him walking again, heading in the direction of the mansion. "Besides, I have that favour to ask right now, and you've just reminded me that we haven't talked about my conditions yet."

He willingly let himself be pulled along; though he would've preferred that she take him up on his offer, it was enough to know for now that he affected her as much as she did him. "Right. So what are your conditions?"

She darted a glance up at him as they walked through Hightown, and then looked forward again. "Well, first, and most importantly, if you want to be with me, then I would expect you to only be with me, for however long we're together. If I so much as hear of you kissing another woman, then we're done, and there will be no third chance. Ever. Can you agree to that?"

"Of course. If I'm with you, then I'm with you, and no one else. That is how I normally conduct my relationships." Which was true; in the past, if he'd discovered he wanted another woman more than the one he was currently bedding, he simply ended things and moved on. Trying to bed two women was simply more trouble than it was worth. That wasn't a problem; what was a problem was how easy he suspected it would be to hold to this condition. He hadn't even thought of or noticed another woman recently. "Honestly, if I hadn't thought you were done with me before, I would never have –"

"Yes, okay," she interrupted him, holding up her free hand to stop him. "We've been over that enough, I think. I'll take you at your word. Anyway . . . my next condition would be . . ." she hesitated. "I find the . . . passion you make me feel overwhelming, sometimes. So if I'm getting overwhelmed, and I ask you to stop, I need to know you'll stop. And that you know it's not because I don't want you, but just because I need a moment, or some space."

 _She_ felt overwhelmed by _him_? Goddess, if she hadn't basically clobbered him over the head with her magic last time, whether it had been intentional or not, he would have been completely lost to all good sense. Still, he understood what she was saying, and felt not a small amount of male pride at the thought that her passion for him was overwhelming. The mere thought was enough to send another jolt of lust through him, which he sternly reminded himself to ignore for the moment. "Of course. Whenever you tell me to stop, I'll stop. And since I find it a bit hard to think when I'm around you, myself, if I don't respond right away, feel free to blast me with your magic. I won't hold it against you." He smiled down at her, though he met her eyes gravely enough to let her know he was serious about that, since he wasn't entirely sure he could trust himself around her.

She laughed. "All right, if you don't get off me right away when I ask, then I'll blast you off."

"See that you do," he agreed. "I'm tough enough to take it. Anything else?"

"There are a couple more things. One, I've decided that I will keep taking on some jobs. I know I don't really need to, anymore, but I think I'd get bored otherwise, and besides, it seems like somebody needs to do it. So if you want to keep helping me with those jobs as well as – um, be lovers, then I'd have to ask that you still follow my lead, that it doesn't affect the way we are on the job, so to speak." Her face had flushed a charming pink as soon as she'd stumbled over calling them lovers, and he found it ridiculously adorable considering the things they'd done together already.

He tamped his smile down, though, and nodded formally in response to her request, appreciating the need for it. He was – and had always been – a soldier before he was anything else, whether that be a son, or brother, or lover. "Duty first, absolutely. I can assure you I have no problem following your lead, or taking your orders." He couldn't resist adding with a wink, "Wherever and whenever you choose to give them."

She rolled her eyes at him, though her face flushed a deeper pink. "Good, then. There's just one more thing. I need you to answer a question, and answer it honestly, and then you get your second chance."

He was instantly wary. What sort of question would she want to ask that she felt the need to demand honesty from him? But, he reminded himself, he would do almost anything to taste her again, to hear her scream for him again. How hard could it be to answer a question if it meant he could have all that? He nodded. "Ask your question, then, and I'll answer honestly."

She stopped him, for they had reached the door to the mansion by now, and turned him to face her. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why me? You said you didn't just want sex from me, that you could have been with another woman if that's all you wanted. So why did you want a second chance with me?" she demanded.

 _Damnú air_. She would have to ask something like that. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Because, like I said, my desire for you is overwhelming. I've wanted plenty of women before, but I've never wanted one enough that I couldn't even think, or control myself. But when it comes to you . . ." he shrugged. "You're different. I guess . . . I want to know why you're different." And why she could get him to say things like that, things he'd rather not ever say.

Also why, he thought as she gave him a sudden, dazzling smile, she could take his breath away so easily. "Then you have your second chance," she informed him. "So long as you can promise that there are no more lies or secrets between us."

"I haven't lied or kept a secret from you since the day I told you about my shifting," he told her honestly. "And I won't, but I'll ask for the same."

She nodded. "And you'll have it."

"So . . . does this mean I get to kiss you now? Take you somewhere private and tell you how your hair feels like silk?" He backed her towards the door.

"Not right now," she said, smiling, her face flushed again as she put a hand to his chest. "That favour I wanted to ask, remember? There's a couple of groups of bandits out on the Wounded Coast who have been terrorizing Kirkwall citizens over the last few days. If we can get rid of them, it might help me get an audience with the Viscount about the Amell estate. I was hoping that you, Fenris, Varric and possibly Merrill might come with me to get rid of them."

"Ah." He eased back, simultaneously disappointed and pleased. He did love to get rid of bandits, and it had been a while since he'd gotten to do any kind of fighting that didn't involve darkspawn. It would make a good enough diversion until she was willing to let him get her alone. "Of course. I told you before you don't even have to ask if you want me to help with a job." He frowned as a sudden thought occurred to him.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I . . . just realized I had a bit of a condition of my own. Or, I guess, just something I wanted you to understand before we do this. I don't do anything permanent. That is . . ." he hesitated, trying to think of how to explain himself. "I don't ever intend to take a life-mate, or whatever you call it here. So once we've . . . tired of each other's company, I suppose, then we'll need to end it with no hurt feelings, because as I've said, I think you and Kirkwall in general are part of my destiny here. So we'll need to be around one another, and able to work together . . . after."

"Of course," she nodded. "I expected as much. We'll have a fun little fling, or whatever you call it in your world, and when it's done, we'll end it. No hurt feelings."

Mardin blinked, a little surprised – and perhaps a little insulted, too – that she'd agreed so quickly. But then, that was what he wanted, wasn't it? "Then, good. We understand each other."

"We do," she agreed. "Now let's see if Fenris wants to help." She turned around before he could say anything further, and knocked on the door.

Fenris opened it almost immediately, and if he was surprised to see Brianna and Mardin there together, or that Mardin hadn't simply walked in as he'd taken to doing lately, he didn't show it. "Hawke. Do you need something?"

"I was hoping you'd come help Mardin and I with some bandits on the Wounded Coast," Brianna answered. "And we'll be getting Varric and Merrill to help if they're willing, too."

Fenris frowned briefly, probably at the mention of Merrill, Mardin suspected. He wasn't terribly fond of their elven mage, but he nodded all the same. "Of course. Lead the way."

The three of them made their way to the Hanged Man, where Varric promptly agreed to help as well, and they continued on to the alienage. As they made their way through the streets of Lowtown, Varric grinned over at Mardin. "So, Red, I hear Ser Karras met with a tragic accident on Sundermount two days ago. Mauled by a bear, of all things."

Brianna, who was in the lead, whipped around to look at them, raising her eyebrows at Mardin. He shrugged, giving her an innocent smile. "He probably shouldn't have gone hunting alone. It can be dangerous."

"I imagine it is particularly so when the bears are hunting you," Fenris put in dryly.

Mardin grinned at him, appreciating the sarcasm. "Exactly."

Brianna sighed, shaking her head. "I thought I told you it was a bad idea?"

He dipped his head in acknowledgement. "You did, but Varric's spies found out some disturbing things about him and his plans while we were gone. It was too much to let slide." Especially when Brianna was a mage, and he'd promised Carver he'd keep her and Merrill safe from the Templars. Hearing some of the things Karras had done to the female mages in the Circle had been too much; there was no way Mardin could have let him live after that. He met her eyes, hoping she would understand what he couldn't put voice to, and she nodded after a moment. "Besides, he was alone, and no one suspects anything, do they?" He turned to look at Varric.

"Not a thing, Red. There's talk of keeping an eye out for dangerous bears and how everyone should hunt in pairs from now on, but nothing else. You're clear," Varric replied.

"Good. Any word on Bartrand?" he asked. Though he wasn't entirely sure what his destiny here might involve, he thought that idol might be a part of it, particularly if it could influence people to sacrifice others as Anders had thought. To that end, he wanted to find Bartrand and the idol as soon as possible.

Varric's face fell, and he scowled. "Not a thing there either. Seems like my brother never bothered to come back to Kirkwall, and no one seems to know where he did run off to."

"You'll find him, Varric," Brianna said reassuringly. "If anyone can find him, it's you and your army of spies."

"Thanks, Hawke." Varric smiled. "I hope you're right. I still owe my brother a slow death, after all."

By this point, they'd reached the door to Merrill's sad little home in the alienage, and Brianna knocked on the door. It was opened quickly by Merrill, who looked pale and distraught, Mardin noted. Telling her what had happened in the Deep Roads had been one of the most difficult things he'd done lately, though in the end, she'd pulled herself together, stubbornly determined that Carver would be fine. "Hawke! Is there any news about Carver?"

"Actually, yes." Brianna turned to look back at Varric and Fenris. "I meant to tell the two of you this before, too. I received a letter from Carver yesterday; he's fine. He survived the Joining and will be heading to Ferelden soon to live with the other Wardens."

Merrill beamed, tears brimming up in her big green eyes. "Oh, Hawke, that's wonderful news! Thank the Creators!"

"He, um, sent a letter for you, too." Brianna reached into her robes, pulling out a folded piece of parchment and handing it over to Merrill. "I didn't read it."

"He did?" Merrill's smile grew wider, if anything, as she took the letter and opened it, beginning to read. Mardin watched in interest as her face began to turn pink. "Oh . . . oh my . . ." She put a hand up to her mouth, and Mardin grinned. _Good boy, Carver_. It seemed he'd finally taken some of the advice Mardin had tried to give him before they'd left.

"Uh, Daisy, maybe you should read that in private later," Varric suggested.

"Please do," Fenris muttered.

Merrill's head jerked up as if she'd forgotten they were there. "Oh! Oh, yes, maybe I should." She quickly tucked the letter into her own robes. "Did you all come for a visit?"

"No, not exactly," Brianna replied. "We were heading out to the Wounded Coast to fight some bandits, and I was wondering if you'd like to come help."

"Of course!" Merrill smiled. "It's a lovely day for a walk."

"Well, yes, I suppose it is," Brianna agreed, glancing up at the clear blue sky above them. "Shall we go, then?"

Merrill nodded. "I'll just grab my staff." She took a few steps back into her house, returning with her twisted wooden staff strapped to her back, closing the door behind her. "I'm very glad to hear Carver's all right," she added as they began to leave the Alienage.

Brianna smiled at her. "I am too."

As was he, Mardin thought as they all headed towards the Wounded Coast. Besides for his own sake, as he'd begun to regard Carver as a friend, he was glad for Brianna's sake, as well. Hearing the good news had clearly lightened the load on her shoulders; she'd smiled more today than in all the time they'd been down in the Deep Roads. In fact, that smile on her face that he so enjoyed seemed almost stuck there now as she listened to Merrill's merry chatter on their trek to the Wounded Coast. Mardin stayed behind the two of them, talking with Varric and Fenris over the finer points of their Wicked Grace game the night before, but he couldn't keep his gaze or his thoughts from straying continually to her as they went.

Soon, he thought to himself, he'd be able to get her alone, and finally bed her properly, now that she was back to herself. Perhaps even tonight. He was caught up in a pleasant daydream of what he might to do to her as they made their way along the coast, the wind carrying the scent of the ocean to them, when Merrill startled him out of his thoughts. "Oh! Who are they?"

Mardin looked up, past Merrill and Brianna to whatever had caught the elf's attention. At this point on the Wounded Coast, the path stretched straight ahead for quite a distance, free of rocks except for the ones rising along the hills to their right. For that reason, he could see a long way ahead to a large, open area down the coast. There was a group of about a half-dozen people – likely the bandits they were looking for - fighting against two lone figures, far enough away that he couldn't make any of them out very well, and the wind wasn't blowing in the right direction for him to scent them either. Yet there was something – _wait. Could that be . . .?_

The smaller of the two figures had just taken a running leap off the back of the larger figure, who appeared to be clad in plate armor, flipping over the heads of the group in front of them to land on the other side. He'd know that move anywhere. That was his move – his move and Ayla's, Mardin thought as he squinted at the slight figure in the distance, now charging the bandits. And that was – it had to be – _Ayla_. He'd been hurrying forward even as he was trying to figure out who it was, but he was still too far away to see her clearly. What he could see, though, was a long braid whipping around behind her as she stabbed one bandit in the back and spun to engage another, wielding a sword in either hand, and that was all he needed to see.

"Mardin, what is it?" Brianna asked, and he glanced at her, startled, not even realizing she'd been following him as he'd moved closer. But of course she would have; it wasn't in her not to help someone fighting bandits. The others were trailing just behind them as they continued to close the distance, though the bandits were falling rapidly between the two figures, making it clear their help likely wasn't needed.

"I think . . . that's my sister," Mardin answered, feeling a little dazed. Could it really be her, after all this time, and in so unlikely a place?

"Really?" Brianna looked ahead again, to where it appeared that the last bandit was being finished off. "If it is her, that's great news. It must be the day for it."

"It must be," he agreed faintly, and though they were only about halfway down the path towards the other group now, he was close enough to see the sunlight glint off flaming red hair, and he was suddenly positive it was her. "AYLA!" he shouted.

Sure enough, in spite of the distance between them, her head whipped in his direction when he shouted, and in the next minute, she was racing towards him, the man in the plate armor following at a slower pace.

Mardin stopped where he was, knowing that his sister was running at him full tilt and he'd need to be braced when she reached him. He sheathed his sword, dropped his shield on the ground, and opened his arms as she got closer. "Mardy!" she cried before leaping into his arms, and he caught her, holding her tight as relief washed over him at how alive and well she looked.

He leaned back a bit, studying her face even as she studied his, beaming. Yes, there were the sparkling green eyes, the freckles, the bright smile, the flaming red hair that matched his own hanging in a long braid down her back. She wore a skirted suit of what appeared to be drake-scale armor, similar to the leathers that Nathaniel had worn, but the slender, curved swords hanging off her hips were still the heirlooms of the Trichlor clan their father had given her when she was sixteen. Aside from the change in armor, she looked precisely the same as the little sister that had disappeared on him over three years ago, and he nearly shuddered with relief at finally having her there in front of him, at finally knowing with absolute certainty that she was fine. He barely even registered Brianna and the others walking past them to greet the man Ayla was with, obviously giving the two of them time alone, and chose to ignore the existence of the man entirely for the moment in favour of his sister.

"Ayles," he breathed, "you're okay." He pulled her into him again, holding her tightly as she did him, breathing in the familiar scent of flowers and the outdoors that always hovered around her, frowning when other scents hit him. She smelled strongly of an unfamiliar man, fairly reeked of it, in fact. Probably that jerk in the plate armor he was choosing to ignore. He wrinkled his nose, scowling as he spotted the locket hanging around her neck – and the fact that she was not, as Anders had said, wearing her armband. She _had_ gone and bonded with that Commander; the locket shone brightly with the force of the bond, and smelled so strongly of it that he had to repress the urge to growl over it. Some bloody stranger that he didn't even know, and his baby sister had quite literally put her life in the man's hands? Unreasoning fury threatened to bubble through his joy and relief at seeing Ayla, and he tried to shove it down as best he could. There would be time for his anger later.

"Of course I'm fine," she said, leaning back, her green eyes shining with joy. "I can't believe you're here, though! I got your letter, which was one of the reasons we came here, and we were going to stop for a bit in Kirkwall next, but I'm not sure that I believed you were really here in Thedas until now. However did you manage it?"

He'd not put any details of how he'd gotten here into the letter, just in case someone had intercepted it and read it, merely that he was living in Kirkwall and had found out where she was from Anders, and the request for her to come visit him. "I insisted on being sent here too, after Cranin finally told me where you were. I pestered him for ages until he finally said the Goddess had determined I had a place here too. But then I had to wait until the right time for him to send me . . ." he trailed off, distracted, for he'd discovered a second unfamiliar scent on her as he held her, buried beneath that of her mate's scent. It took a moment for him to figure out what it was, this strange blend of scents, and where he'd smelled it before, but when he finally did, his eyes widened as shock lanced through him. "Ayles . . . are you . . . pregnant?!"

Her eyes went round with shock, and she clapped a hand over his mouth, glancing quickly over her shoulder at her mate behind them, still talking to Brianna and the others. Mardin looked over her shoulder too, curious, but they were far enough away that no one appeared to have heard anything. Her shoulders sagged in relief before she whipped back around to glare at him, dropping her hand. "Keep it down!" she hissed. "He doesn't know yet."

"He doesn't . . ." Mardin repeated, dumbfounded. He was having enough trouble dealing with the shock of his realization, and the fact that his sister hadn't denied it; he could barely process anything else at the moment. She was pregnant?! His little sister was going to be a mother? How could she be, when she was only a child herself? No, he amended, he knew better than that. He might still think of her as the baby sister who'd toddled around after him from the time she could walk, who he'd protected from the moment they'd started going on the road with their father, but she was a woman grown, and had been for some time.

Never had that been more obvious than now; she had a bonded life-mate, and she was pregnant, and she . . . wait. His mind finally caught up with the rest of what she'd said. "Ayles, you haven't told him?!" He kept his voice low so only she could hear, but his disbelief and disapproval were still obvious, he knew. He might not even know if he liked the guy yet, but if the man had fathered a child, he still deserved to know.

"I know," she sighed, hanging her head as he finally set her down, though he kept an arm around her shoulders, unwilling to let her go completely just yet. "I know I should have, but he's overprotective at the best of times. I didn't want to have a big fight with him about coming on this mission, especially when there was no one else at the Keep to send with him. And if he'd gone alone, that would've defeated the purpose of protecting me, anyway, if something happened to him."

Mardin scowled. As if he needed reminding that he couldn't even so much as punch the guy without potentially hurting his sister, and that if the jerk died, so might she. Or worse yet . . . no, he couldn't even think of that. "Yeah, about that, what in the name of the Fox possessed you to bond with him? You know how dangerous it is!"

"It's got a lot of benefits, too. Like giving one another our strength if we're injured, which might succeed in keeping us from death until a healer can get to us," she pointed out. "Besides, it has some other very interesting benefits, too." She smiled slyly.

"Ugh." He frowned at her. "I don't even want to know. The point is, if he dies, you probably will too." _Or you won't, which might be worse_. But no, he couldn't tell her about that. It was too late; the bond was irreversible, and he wouldn't worry her more than was necessary, especially not now. "How am I supposed to protect you like that? Especially when it sounds like you're in danger all the time now, fighting these darkspawn?"

"Mardy." She touched a gloved hand gently to his face, looking up at him with a smile. "You don't need to protect me anymore. I can look after myself. I have for a few years now without any problems, haven't I?"

And why did that sting so badly, the thought of the danger she must have been in when he wasn't there to look after her, even though she was so clearly fine now? "You didn't have a choice," he muttered rebelliously. "Neither did I."

"No," she agreed, "and I'm sorry. If I'd been given the choice, I would have said goodbye to you before I left, let you know where I was going. I hope you know that. But even still, before I left, I'd been on missions without you. And I would have gone on more, had I stayed home. You weren't always going to be around to protect me, no matter what, and that was true from the moment I joined the Order for myself. You don't need to look after me anymore. I can look after myself now, because you taught me how. And I can make my own choices now. I chose to bond with Alistair, and take the risks that come with it. And I'd do it again."

 _They made their own choices, and no matter how you feel about it, it wasn't your right to tell them otherwise._ His brain mocked him with the reminder of what he'd said to Brianna a week ago, thinking himself so wise at the time. Easier to give advice than to follow it, he thought ruefully. Ayla had made her own choice, and if she hadn't had all the facts, that was his own fault, wasn't it? Besides, it was much too late to do anything about it now; he'd just have to deal with the consequences, and hope fate didn't repeat itself. "So that's his name, is it? Alistair?" He was sure he'd probably heard the name from Anders or someone else before, but somehow it had more impact when Ayla had said it, especially when her eyes had gone soft as she had.

"Yes." She gave him a wry look. "And be nice, will you?"

He gave her an innocent look, widening his eyes. "When have I ever not been nice?"

"Oh, I don't know." She poked him in the chest. "How about the time Curran took me into the mountains when I was twelve? You scared him so badly after we got back that he never spoke to me again."

Mardin snorted. "And he deserved it, the little moron. The mountains were filled with bandits and dangerous beasts. He could have gotten you killed. And obviously he was weak if I scared him off permanently. Don't tell me you picked yourself a life-mate that weak?"

"Of course not," she sniffed, tossing her head and making him smile. "As if I would ever bond myself to a coward. Still, I want you to be nice to him. As you said, he is my life-mate and you know what that means."

He sighed. "Yes, he's my brother now," Mardin agreed reluctantly. Still, no one had ever said a big brother couldn't be strict, he thought slyly. Not that he'd ever succeeded in being strict with Ayla, but he could make an exception for her mate, he felt sure. "Which, by the way, how did you end up with a life-mate?" he asked, curious. "I never thought you'd take one."

"Neither did I," she said with a shrug, "until I met him."

"What made you change your mind?" he pressed, still curious. "How did you know?"

She raised her eyebrows at him. "How did I know what?"

"That you loved him. That he was your other half. How did you know for sure?" He wasn't even sure what was driving him, but he had to know why his sister's outlook on mates had changed so fundamentally since he'd last seen her.

Her eyes were suddenly sparkling with mischief as she smiled slyly at him. "Now, Mardy, why would you ask such a thing? Could it be you've met someone special? Is it the elf or – no, it would be the other one, wouldn't it? The woman in the black and red robes?"

"Of course not," he snapped, irritated that his gaze had involuntarily darted to Brianna, and that Ayla had of course noticed. "I'm just curious why you changed your mind."

Ayla's smile stretched wider. "Of course, I'm sure that's all it is." When he cursed foully at her in ancient Fallorian, his preferred method of cursing, she laughed. "Okay, okay, I'll stop teasing. But if you're really curious, I'll tell you."

He nodded; he was, he just wasn't entirely sure why. She looked back at her mate again, and Mardin, watching closely, saw the man look up and meet her eyes, smiling at her with clear and evident love – the same way Ayla was looking back at him. The same way Father and Mother had always looked at each other, and Mardin tried very hard not to think about that – and how it terrified him - as Ayla turned back.

"It was little things, at first," she began. "I wanted him, of course, but it was different than with other men. Stronger, more intense. And then it was other things. Like, I wanted to comfort him when he was upset, and it made me angry when he put himself in danger, that sort of thing. It wasn't until he almost died during a fight with a high dragon – and I thought he actually was dead - that I knew for sure, though. I knew I couldn't survive it if I lost him, that no other man had made me feel the way he did, and never would again. And the only reason it took me that long to realize it was because I was scared to love him, and feel the pain of losing him. I had thought that losing Father was bad enough, and I couldn't take losing anyone I loved again, so I tried to convince myself I didn't love him, until it was almost too late. Fortunately, it wasn't."

 _Stronger, more intense wanting . . .? No_. He shut down that line of thinking very quickly. It didn't mean a damn thing. It didn't, and he was still in control, he reminded himself. More importantly, he suddenly realized why his sister had bonded with this Alistair, in spite of knowing the danger. It was _because_ of the fact that she could die if he did; she was banking on it, in fact. She didn't want to feel the pain of losing him, and was hoping she'd never have to. _Damn it, Ayles_. He shook his head. Not that he could blame her; he fully understood the impulse. But she didn't look worried, he realized. In fact, he'd been wrong to think that she didn't look any different. "Does he make you happy, Ayles?" he asked softly, though he already knew the answer.

The answer was shining from her eyes when she nodded, her whole face glowing with it as she smiled at him. "Happier than I ever thought I could be, especially now that you're here and I have everything I could want – and more than I ever expected – here in Thedas."

He smiled in spite of himself and his conflicting emotions about the whole thing as he pulled her into another hug. "Good." He kissed her forehead. "Glad to hear it, little sister." He frowned as a fresh wave of the baby's scent wafted by him. "You do know that you have to tell him, and soon, right? By the smell of it, you're far enough along that I would have put you on lighter duties already at the Order."

She sighed, leaning her forehead against his chest, her voice muffled. "I know. And I know in another month or so, when it starts to slow me down, I should be pulled off missions altogether. It's just . . . he'll still have to go on missions without me, and I'm not sure I know how to deal with that. I'll still be able to feel him, if he gets worried or hurt, but I won't be there to do anything about it, just _waiting_ at home where it's _safe_." She practically spat the word out, making him smile even as he hurt for her. He couldn't even imagine being able to feel the danger she was in without being there to help, and she wasn't even his life-mate, just his sister. "I just . . . I know I shouldn't have gone on this mission either, probably. But I wanted one more mission just to get used to the idea, and then I was going to tell him. He's going to be mad, though."

"Probably," Mardin agreed softly. He knew that if a woman had ever been pregnant with his child and hadn't told him right away, he would've been mad too, whatever her reasons were, and he could certainly sympathize with his sister's reasons. "But he'll get over it. And if he doesn't, I'll yell at him for you. Obviously I can't punch him, though, which, thanks for that, by the way."

She looked up at him, grinning. "You're welcome. But you know it's just strong sensations that go through the bond, right?"

"Hmm." He tilted his head, considering it. Just how much would he have to hold back to make sure the punch didn't affect this Alistair fellow enough to filter through the bond to Ayla?

She shoved him, laughing. "Don't you dare! You promised you'd be nice!"

"Well, I won't punch him, then. Not yet, anyway." He didn't bother reminding her that he'd never actually promised to be nice. It wouldn't hurt to put a little fear in his new brother. It would make him feel better, at the very least.

"Good. I should introduce you, then, before we get going. We can't stay long right now," she said quickly, obviously anticipating his protest. "We're on a mission, like I said. When we're finished and on our way back, though, we should be able to stop in Kirkwall for a few days to visit before we go back to Ferelden."

"You'd better," he growled, crossing his arms and frowning down at her. "Just what is this mission, anyway?"

She sighed, shaking her head. "I can't tell you. The Wardens are really strict about keeping their business a secret. I'd tell you if I could, you know that."

"Fair enough," he conceded. Orders had to be followed, and duty came first. He knew that better than anyone. "So long as you do visit when you're done, and as often as you can afterwards. I don't think I can really leave here . . . I'm not sure what my destiny is here yet, but I know it involves them and Kirkwall." He nodded at Brianna and the others. "And until I know what it is for sure, I don't think I can afford to leave."

"No, you probably shouldn't," Ayla agreed. "I'll see what I can do; I'm sure we can get away for a little while, here and there." She turned then, waving to her mate. "Alistair, come here."

He trotted over, the heavy silver plate armor he wore clanking noisily with each step. Mardin frowned. Bloody plate armor, it was so useless. The chest plate, he noticed, was engraved with some sort of winged golden creature, and bits of blue and silver chainmail showed through the gaps in the armor. The man himself had strawberry blonde hair, cut close to his head on the side and a bit longer on top, and hazel eyes in a square-jawed face. He was as tall as Mardin himself was, and also fought with a sword and shield, Mardin noted. Interesting. He might have to put that to the test one day.

"Alistair, this is my brother, Mardin," Ayla said when he reached her side, gesturing to Mardin. "And Mardin, this is Alistair, my life-mate."

Alistair smiled, holding out his gauntleted hand. "Pleased to finally meet you. We'd been looking all over trying to find a way to contact you, but we couldn't find anything. Ayla was so happy when she got the letter that you'd made it here on your own."

"Yeah, well, I thought my sister was alone here, and I wasn't about to leave her that way if I could help it," Mardin retorted. When Ayla glared at him, raising her eyebrows, he sighed and shook Alistair's hand in return, squeezing with all his strength, even as he forced a smile for her sake. "Pleased to meet you, too." The damned jerk didn't even flinch, Mardin thought sourly as he let go. Stupid plate armor.

"I hate to do this when we just ran into your brother, love, but we should get going," Alistair said, looking over to Ayla. "We'll stop for a few days on the way back, though, I promise."

Ayla sighed. "I know. I just want to introduce myself to Mardy's friends quick before we leave, though. I'll leave you two to get a little better acquainted." She pinned Mardin with a fierce look that practically shouted, _be nice_ , before she turned and walked over to Brianna and the others.

Mardin wasn't entirely sure he wanted Ayla to meet Brianna unsupervised; who knew what she would say? On the other hand, that gave him a chance to say just what he wanted to Alistair, so he decided it was worth the risk. Which, he realized, was probably exactly what she was thinking. Oh well. He'd just spotted Ayla's armband on Alistair's left arm, glowing with the bond, and simultaneously realized how much the man smelled of his sister; this needed to be said.

"Look," Alistair was saying as Mardin quickly glanced over to make sure Ayla's back was to him, "I know you don't know me, but –"

He was cut off as Mardin grabbed him by the collar of his plate armor, jerking him forward as he let the shift slip through enough to darken his eyes brown and double the size of his canine teeth, a favourite intimidation tactic that had sent many a man running in fear – and even scared that Qunari warrior. "Do you actually think your life is worth my sister's?" he snarled, letting the shift deepen his voice a bit too.

The hazel eyes met his calmly without a trace of fear. "No, I don't."

Mardin was shocked enough at the lack of fear – and the surprising answer – to let go of both Alistair's collar and the partial shift as Alistair continued, "The bond is dangerous, right? That's why you're mad, that if I die, she could, too." Mardin had no more than nodded before the other man went on, "That's why I almost didn't do it. The reason I did, in the end, was because she's so reckless she almost got herself killed. She shifted so much in the battle against the archdemon that she didn't have the strength left to fight her injuries, and there was nothing I could do about it. But with the bond, there is. I can give her my strength, and more than that, I can feel when she's pushing herself too hard. The risk was outweighed by her recklessness."

Damn. He could see the logic in Alistair's answer, and it annoyed him even as he agreed with it. She was reckless, he knew that; she always had been. If this life-mate of hers could temper that recklessness, and the bond helped with that, it just might be worth it. Maybe. He'd reserve judgment for now, he decided. "You might have a point," he said grudgingly.

Alistair smiled, and Mardin thought he detected relief in his eyes. "Occasionally, I do. And . . . I do love your sister. I'd do anything for her. Before the bond, I would have given my life for hers. But with her . . . this just seemed to be the best way that I could find to keep her safe."

Mardin sighed. Of course the idiot loved Ayla; it was obvious. That didn't mean he was worthy of protecting her, though. But – "You weren't scared. Most people are terrified of an angry shifter." He studied the other man thoughtfully. It was certainly a point in his favour.

Alistair snorted. "I'd hardly be married – or bonded – to your sister if an angry shifter terrified me, now would I? I hate to break it to you, but she's a lot more scary than you are."

Mardin couldn't help it – he laughed, having heard Lorcan say the exact same thing once. He was beginning to see why Ayla had picked this man. He was a skilled and strong warrior, from what he'd seen in the fight against the bandits; brave in the face of what terrified most men, accepting of her nature and with a ready sense of humour. Mardin could see why he made Ayla happy, and he grudgingly supposed that was the important thing. Kind of. He still didn't have to like the guy himself. "So she is. All right, brother. You pass muster – for now." He punched him lightly on the front of his armor-plated shoulder, testing the limits, and was pleased when Alistair stumbled back a few steps, but didn't flinch. Good. Maybe the plate armor had uses, after all. "Don't think this means I think you're worthy of her, though."

Alistair shrugged, giving him a wry smile. "I told you, I know I'm not. But I try every day to be – and I'm not going to give her up. Not for anything, or anyone." He shot Mardin a challenging look, hazel eyes going steely and shoulders squaring.

Here, Mardin realized, was the Warden Commander. Another point in his favour. He nodded, pleased. A worthy opponent was the best kind. "Good. I would expect nothing less from my sister's mate."

Ayla reappeared at Alistair's side at that moment, slipping her arm through his and looking back and forth between the two of them, her eyes narrowing on Mardin. He smiled innocently. "So, how did it go?"

"Well enough," Alistair told her, smiling down at her.

"Really?" she said skeptically, darting a look at Mardin. "What did you say to him, Mardy?"

"What did you say to Brianna?" he retorted evenly.

She grinned. "Fair enough." She sighed, looking up at Alistair. "We really do have to go now, don't we?"

"Sorry, love," he said apologetically. "As soon as we can, we'll stop back in Kirkwall."

"How long?" Mardin asked as Ayla crossed over to him, hugging him once more. He returned the embrace tightly, looking at Alistair over her head.

"A week at most, I hope," Alistair replied, looking sympathetic.

Ayla pulled back to look up at him. "Goodbye, Mardy. I'll see you soon."

"Bye, Ayles," he said softly. "Take care of yourself, you hear?" She nodded, and he dropped his voice low, so low only her shifter hearing would pick it up. "And you'd better tell him." She nodded again, sighing. "I will," she whispered back.

He squeezed her tightly for one more moment as Alistair walked up to them, then reluctantly let her go. "You'd better take care of her," he told Alistair sternly as Ayla went to his side, turning back to roll her eyes at his words.

Alistair nodded. "Of course I will."

Mardin watched the two of them walk away in the direction he'd initially come with the others, until they were almost out of sight. He sighed, finally turning back and finding Brianna and the others there waiting for him.

Brianna smiled at him. "Come on, there's still another group of bandits to fight. And they'll get back all right. By the looks of that," she nodded back at the dead bodies, "they can handle themselves."

"They do seem quite capable," Fenris agreed.

"Yeah, I suppose so," Mardin sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair. They had survived so far, right? "She said they'd stop by Kirkwall for a few days on the way back. I'll just have to wait until then."

Varric snorted. "They'd better stop by Kirkwall. I didn't even get half of my questions answered! How am I supposed to write like that?"

Brianna shook her head at the dwarf as they started walking along the coast again in search of the other bandits. "That's because you had a million questions, Varric. And when you start off a conversation with 'Are you really a bastard prince who gave up his throne for Red's sister', of course people are going to be reluctant to answer you!"

"It was a legitimate question!" Varric protested. "And I'm sure he's heard that one before!"

Mardin laughed as Merrill trotted up to his side while Brianna and Varric continued to bicker. "They seemed very nice. I like your sister."

He smiled. "Do you? I'm glad."

"She was a little bit scary when she talked to Hawke, but otherwise very nice," Merrill went on cheerfully. "And that Alistair seems to love her very much. He kept watching her when she was with you with puppy dog eyes. It was very sweet."

Puppy dog eyes, huh? As good a description as any, Mardin supposed, smiling wryly. "What did my sister say to Brianna?"

Merrill frowned. "I didn't actually hear it, she just looked a little scary. Hawke seemed fine, though."

 _She would be_. "Thanks, Merrill. I just want to go check something with Brianna."

He slipped up to the front of the group, where Brianna had apparently given up on Varric, letting him poke at Fenris instead, and was walking alone. "So, what did my sister say to you?"

"Oh, nothing much. She just asked me to keep an eye on you and make sure you were being careful," Brianna replied easily.

Mardin studied her closely, but she wasn't giving anything away. He sincerely doubted that was all Ayla had said, but it didn't look like Brianna was going to tell him anything else. Oh well, it couldn't have been that bad, he reassured himself. Ayla was generally reasonable and easy-going.

"Why don't you like her husband?" Brianna asked, interrupting his thoughts.

Mardin shot her a startled glance. "Who said I don't like him?"

Brianna smiled at him, shaking her head. "Come on, it was pretty obvious. You looked like you wanted to rip his throat out."

Mardin shrugged, uncomfortable explaining his reasons to someone else – and with just how astute her assessment was. "It's not necessarily that I don't like him. It's just . . . I don't even know him, and she's put her heart and her life in his hands. And I don't know yet if he's worthy of either."

"Ah, I see," Brianna replied gently, studying him carefully. He felt suddenly transparent, remembering how easily she'd seen through him before as she went on, "You'll just have to trust your sister's judgment, that she wouldn't give her heart to someone who didn't deserve it."

"I suppose so," he muttered reluctantly. He did trust Ayla's judgment, but he still didn't like the thought of someone else protecting her, of someone else having so much power to hurt her. She'd never given her heart before, and giving that away left a person all too vulnerable. He'd already seen that enough for one lifetime.

"Well," Brianna tilted her head, "do you want to talk about it, or do you want me to distract you?"

He looked down at her, suddenly intrigued. "Well, that depends. How do you plan on distracting me?"

"Hmm." She put a finger to her lips, considering, running her eyes up and down his body, which did an admirable job of heating it all through. "I thought I'd start with a bandit fight. I know you like those."

"I do," he replied, amused. "And what else?"

"Once we get back to Kirkwall . . ." she trailed off, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Yes?" he pressed, impatient and deliciously on edge.

"Well, you did promise to tell me all sorts of nice things about how I look in private." She grinned at him, lowering her voice. "And I seem to recall last time we were alone, I didn't even get to see you out of your armor. I think that would be a fine distraction for both of us."

_By the Goddess_. His whole body tightened and leapt with eagerness. "Yeah, I think that will do nicely," he managed, struggling to keep his voice even. "In fact, we should hurry and find those bandits." 

"I couldn't agree more." Her face flushed that lovely pink that he so adored as he looked her over hotly, remembering what he'd seen of her gorgeous body before when he'd so hastily pushed aside her robes. He'd take his time tonight, he decided, and allow for a thorough distraction. As they made their way further down the coast in search of the bandits, he lost himself in another pleasant daydream of what he would he do to Brianna once they were alone, the worry for his sister almost completely forgotten in the haze of incredibly entertaining and diverting thoughts of his pretty mage. 


	15. Legacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ayla confesses her pregnancy to Alistair at last, and her reasons for taking so long to tell him, before they meet with Nathaniel and a new recruit on their way to see Mardin and his friends again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter turned out differently than I was expecting; I meant to have it a split POV between Ayla and Mardin, and it got so long that it's really only Ayla's POV instead. You'll get to see Mardin's POV of what's going on in the next chapter. I'm hoping those reading this story have read Ayla's and Alistair's story; if not, I hope you'll still enjoy this glimpse into their continuing story, as they will keep showing up in this sequel, however infrequently. There's also a bit of smut in this one, it's pretty obvious where it starts so you can skip over it if you like down to the next break. Everything after that is plot. Enjoy!

Chapter 15: Legacy

Ayla sat on the edge of the bed in their room at the inn, waiting for Alistair to return. He'd gone to get the both of them a tray of food after she'd had an unfortunate bout of vomiting while they were washing up following their mission. She'd had a fair few bouts of nausea since the start of her pregnancy, which Neria, their recently recruited healer, had told her was quite normal. She'd managed to keep all but two bouts secret from Alistair, however; this was only the second time he'd seen her get sick. Which was good, because each time, it sent him into a near panic, even though she'd reassured him she was fine both times.

Once she'd managed to convince him that she felt better, which she did, the nausea completely gone once she'd thrown up and her appetite returned, he'd told her he would go get them some food to eat in the privacy of their room in case she got sick again, and had insisted she wait in the room for him. She'd given in easily enough, thinking that it would give her some time to decide how precisely to tell him she was pregnant.

She'd initially been planning to wait until they'd returned to the Keep again to tell him, but after meeting up with Mardin the other day, she'd decided it wouldn't be fair to put it off much longer, especially since Mardin knew now too. Besides, it was likely she would start to show any day now. She'd been fortunate enough that her stomach had remained almost completely flat thus far, but Alistair knew her body as well, if not better, than she did and would be bound to notice as soon as that changed. The only reason he hadn't noticed the increased sensitivity of her breasts during their lovemaking so far was that she'd worked hard to keep him distracted.

She'd worked quite hard to hide _any_ symptoms of her pregnancy from him the last few months, in fact, and he'd yet to notice anything so far. She hadn't wanted him to know until the pregnancy was a little further along, for a few reasons. Not the least of which was that she knew he would have tried to take her off missions the instant he'd known, whether or not she was still perfectly capable of undergoing them. She hadn't wanted to argue with him every single time, and especially not this last time, when all the other Wardens had been gone on other missions when they'd got word of the possible talking darkspawn sighted just north of Kirkwall. She had not been about to send Alistair off alone on that mission, and she knew he would have tried to go by himself if he'd known she was pregnant.

So, she hadn't told him, and they'd gone together to investigate the possibility of another talking darkspawn, hoping to prevent the rise of another Architect or Mother gathering followers to a cause. They'd defeated both of the intelligent darkspawn several months ago with the help of the other Wardens, but they hadn't been able to track down all of the darkspawn the Architect had managed to convert yet. Every time they got word of one, they made sure to track it down immediately before it became too much of a threat.

Fortunately, though this darkspawn had indeed been one of the intelligent, talking ones converted by the Architect, it hadn't managed to gather many followers yet due to its lack of any real plan, only about a dozen darkspawn willing to go along with it. She and Alistair had been able to track them down and defeat them without too much trouble, and had returned to Kirkwall tonight, three days after they'd come across Mardin. She had considered going to find her brother right away at the mansion he'd mentioned he was staying in during the letter he'd sent, but had decided it was too late at night and she was too tired, so they'd simply found an inn to stay in for the night, deciding they'd go to visit Mardin and his friends tomorrow after they'd bathed and rested.

And Ayla had decided that tonight was the perfect time to tell Alistair, now that the bulk of the danger of their mission was over. She was hoping that would soothe some of his anger at her delay in telling him, and she wanted him to know before they saw Mardin again, in case her brother accidentally let something slip.

Still, despite the time she'd been given to think while Alistair was gone, she hadn't come up with a great way to break the news yet, and now it was too late; she heard Alistair's footsteps just outside the door, his tread lighter in the leather boots, tunic and breeches he'd changed into after their bath, but still recognizable.

He pushed open the door with one hand, bearing a tray piled high with food in the other, and she couldn't keep the sudden spike of anxiety from flaring through her at the sight of him and the realization she was out of time to figure things out. Alistair felt it; his head snapped up and he looked sharply at her, concern flooding from him as he shut the door behind him and set the tray down on the table.

"What is it, love?" he demanded, scrambling over to her, kneeling in front of her and taking her cool hands in his much warmer ones. "Are you feeling sick again?"

"No, no, it's not that," she answered hastily, cursing herself for the worry and fear she could feel shooting through him. She had to tell him, whether she was ready or not; he was getting much too worried about her nausea. "I have something I have to tell you."

His eyes shot up to hers, the fear ratcheting up in him. "Maker, there's something wrong, isn't there? Are you really ill? You're not . . ." he shook his head, answering the question himself before she could get a word in edgewise. "No, you're not tainted, I'd know. You've been anxious since we saw your brother, though. You're not . . . you don't have to go back with him, do you? To your world?"

"Alistair, stop!" She squeezed his hands, feeling guilt building in her at all the worry she was causing him. "Just . . . stop guessing and let me tell you." When he took a deep breath, nodding, she went on firmly, "No, I am not going back to my world. Not ever; I'm staying here in Thedas, with you. I told you that. And my brother's been given his own destiny here, so he'll be staying in this world too. Which means I have absolutely no reason to go back to my world, now. I am not leaving you, I promise, okay?"

He let out a relieved sigh, some of his worry and fear dissipating, though it wasn't totally gone yet. "Okay. But, what is it you have to tell me, then?"

Well, there was no putting it off any longer, she thought, taking a deep breath of her own. "Alistair, I'm . . . pregnant."

For a long moment, he simply stared at her blankly, and she could feel nothing but shock emanating from him. She'd almost begun to wonder if he hadn't heard her when he repeated slowly, "You're . . . pregnant?"

She nodded, anxiously waiting for the oncoming storm, and was completely unprepared for the reaction she got instead.

Alistair leapt to his feet with a whoop, joy flooding from him like warm summer sunshine and ocean breezes, and Ayla couldn't help the smile spreading across her face as he exclaimed, "We're going to have a baby?!"

"We are," was all she managed to say before he scooped her up, whirling her in a circle, making her shriek with laughter and surprise.

"Oh, Maker, sorry!" He halted after the first full circle, carefully setting her down on the bed again. "I shouldn't be making you dizzy."

"I'm fine," she reassured him, smiling up at him as he sat on the bed next to her, beaming with joy still. "I don't feel dizzy at all."

"Wait, is that why you vomited earlier, because of the baby?" His brow furrowed when she nodded. "That doesn't mean something's wrong, does it?"

"No, not at all. Neria said it's quite common during pregnancy to have sudden bouts of nausea and vomiting. It's supposed to mostly happen in the morning, but apparently any time of day will do for me." She rolled her eyes. "Anyway, she told me it was nothing to worry about; it's perfectly normal and it doesn't mean there's anything wrong with the baby."

Alistair let out a relieved sigh. "Good. Wait . . . Neria told you this? Does that mean she already knows?"

_Oh, Goddess_. Ayla didn't feel any anger coming from him yet, but she knew this line of questioning was going to lead there. She'd expected him to be angry right away when he realized she'd come on this mission pregnant, but apparently his initial surprise and joy at the news had temporarily overwhelmed any other consideration. Once he realized just how long she'd known about the pregnancy, though, she felt sure the anger would come. She wasn't about to lie to him, however. She would keep things secret from him if she felt the need, but she would never lie if he asked her a direct question.

"Neria knows. I needed her to confirm the pregnancy and make sure the baby was healthy so far," she explained. "And I'm sorry; I asked that she keep it a secret until I was able to tell you myself."

"But . . . we haven't seen Neria since . . ." he trailed off as he clearly remembered the last time they'd seen Neria, well over a month ago before Alistair had sent her off on a mission with Oghren. "Just how long have you known, Ayla?"

His voice held a distinct edge to it on the last question, and she nearly flinched. _Now_ she could feel the thunderstorm sensation of his anger beginning to gather as she confessed softly, "I had Neria confirm it for me about three months ago." Like Mardy and any other shifter with an enhanced sense of smell, she was able to scent the changes pregnancy wrought on a body, particularly her own, and she'd gone to the elven mage almost immediately to confirm that she was right when she'd realized her scent had been consistently different for two weeks. She'd had Neria check the health of the baby and herself a few more times after that, as well, and had sworn her to secrecy, explaining her reasons. Though the young mage had been reluctant to keep such a thing secret from her Commander, she had eventually agreed. Now, seeing the fury lighting Alistair's eyes, Ayla just hoped she could keep him from blaming Neria for her part in this.

"Three months?! You've known for three months?! How could you not tell me?!" Alistair shouted, his anger raging through her like the thunderstorm she'd expected, washing out any other emotions he'd been feeling prior to her confession.

"I . . . I'm sorry," she whispered, feeling only shame herself. Normally his anger triggered her own, like most strong emotions felt through the bond, but she knew she had absolutely no right to be angry in return. "I just . . . I wanted to wait until I was further along, until I was more certain that everything would be okay. Neria also said that it's not uncommon to lose a baby during the first few months, and I didn't want to get your hopes up only to . . ." she shrugged, not wanting to finish that sentence. That had been one of her biggest, deepest fears, one she'd not even confessed to Mardy. He was staring at her, some of his anger having vanished at her last words, and she went on, "I'll be showing soon, though, so even though there's still a chance something could happen, I thought I should tell you. Plus, you were getting so worried about the nausea, and Mardy said it wasn't fair to keep it from you any longer –"

"You told your _brother_ before you told me?! I'm your husband!" His voice was a near roar now, and this time she did flinch involuntarily; she'd never heard or felt him so angry in all the time she'd known him, not even during their argument when they'd first met Sigrun.

"No, no, I didn't tell him," she scrambled to explain, realizing just how badly she'd screwed this whole thing up by mentioning Mardy. "He knew the minute he saw me; he could smell it on me. I would never have deliberately told him before I told you, I swear, but it's been so long since I've been around another shifter I didn't even think of it when I saw him."

"He could smell it on you?" Alistair repeated dubiously, sounding – and feeling – a good deal calmer, and she let out a small breath, relieved as she nodded at him.

"He's got an enhanced sense of smell, just like me; most shifters do. It's the most common side effect, and it lets us smell anything that changes a body fundamentally, like pregnancy or a severe illness. He noticed it right away; I would never have told him otherwise, not before you knew. I was actually . . . going to tell you before we left the Keep this last time; remember when I said I had a surprise for you?"

Alistair nodded slowly, his anger dimming with every passing second, allowing her to breathe easier. It was surprisingly painful, feeling such a flood of anger coming from him when she didn't have her own to combat it with. "Before you could tell me, Varel came to tell us about the talking darkspawn, and I said we should leave right away, that we didn't have time to wait to see if some of the others would be back soon. You said you'd give me the surprise later." He shook his head, the anger building back up a few notches as he seemed to realize the implications of what he'd just said. "You came with me on this mission – just the two of us – knowing that you were pregnant? How could you let me endanger you – or our child – like that? How could you endanger yourself like that?"

She sighed. "What was my alternative, Alistair? Let you go alone? That would have put me in greater danger, because if something had happened to you . . ."

He reeled back, looking as though she'd slapped him. "If something happens to me while you're pregnant – you could – the baby –" His anger was suddenly completely gone, horror and fear taking its place as he stared at her with wide eyes.

She scooted across the distance separating them on the bed, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it, now wanting only to comfort him, his horror and fear striking deeply within her. "It'll be okay," she reassured him softly. "There's no guarantee that I'll die if you do. I told you, my father survived my mother's death. And as long as we make sure nothing happens to either one of us, everything will be fine. We'll just have to be more careful. I know . . . I know I can't keep going on missions once the pregnancy slows me down. In fact, this will likely be my last one. I'll stay back at the Keep from now on, do my best to help out from there. But you have to promise me . . . promise me you'll be careful, that you'll come back safe to me, okay? It's going to be hard enough for me to stay behind as it is, without feeling you get hurt or something while I'm not there with you. That was one of the other reasons why I didn't tell you until now, because I wasn't sure how I was going to deal with staying behind, and I wanted some time to get used to the idea before I started arguing with you about it."

He lifted her into his lap wordlessly, cradling her against him as he held her tightly, and she rested her head against his chest with a sigh, wrapping her arms around him, allowing the comfort of the embrace to wash over both of them, relieved that his anger, at least, was gone. "Maker, I'm so sorry," he murmured into her hair after a long moment.

"Sorry? What for?" she asked, surprised. He'd had every right to be angry at her for keeping things from him.

"I . . . wanted to have a child with you, but I never thought about any of this. I didn't consider how the bond would affect things, or what we would do while you were pregnant . . ." His grip on her tightened. "Honestly, as much as I wanted a child, I don't think I ever really expected it would happen. At least, not so soon . . . it's supposed to be really rare for a Warden to have children. I thought if it ever happened at all, it would take much longer than a few years . . ."

"Well, you have Morrigan to thank for that," Ayla said lightly, trying to distract him from the fear and worry still swirling through him. She leaned back a bit to watch his reaction, and just as she'd suspected, his head jerked up at her words.

"Morrigan? What did she do?!"

"Don't worry," she said quickly, "it was nothing like she did to ensure Kieran's birth. No magical ritual or anything. It was just a potion she'd been working on, with several different herbs that would boost fertility. And maybe a bit of healing magic added in, I'm not sure. Anyway, she wasn't even sure it would work, so I didn't tell you that she'd given it to us last time she visited. Like I said, I didn't want to get your hopes up. But if my guess is right, it only took a few weeks after I added it to our drinks for it to work."

" _Just_ a potion?" he repeated, tipping her face up to study it closely. "You're sure?"

She nodded firmly. "That's what she said, and my instincts didn't go off, so . . ."

"So she must have been telling the truth," Alistair finished softly. "Okay. Then I suppose we do have her to thank for yet another thing." He rolled his eyes, and Ayla smiled, pleased that her distraction had worked so well as he went on, "Since it does work, some of the other Wardens might eventually be interested in it, as well."

"They might," Ayla agreed. "And I thought . . . it couldn't hurt to try, if it was just a potion. You are . . . happy about this, right?" She hadn't felt that warm sunshine since her initial confession, and now she was growing worried she wouldn't feel it again after bringing up her own concerns.

"Of course I am!" Alistair exclaimed with shock, looking down at her. "I'm just worried about the next few months and what we're going to do, but you know how much I've wanted to have a child with you. Like I said, I just didn't think of how we would handle the details, but . . ." He trailed off, obviously considering something before he squeezed her again. "I'll figure something out, I will. I'll meet with Varel, Nathaniel and a few of the other Wardens that understand the situation when we get back, and explain that I might have to take on fewer field missions for a bit, at least try to avoid the riskier ones, or the longer ones. Once you've given birth, then I'll have to take on full duties again, since we have so few Wardens, but in the meantime, I'll see if I can't step back a bit, run things from the Keep a bit more. Will that set your mind at ease, love?"

"It will help," she agreed softly, touched at his consideration. He'd always been so careful to be as hands-on as possible with his duties, so that the other Wardens had no reason to feel that he wasn't doing his share, and no reason to feel that he wasn't a good Commander. The fact that he was willing to change things for her sake and for the safety of their unborn child relieved her as nothing else could, and touched her more than any other words that he could have said.

"Good. I still don't understand, though, why you didn't tell me as soon as you knew. Why you felt the need to hide it from me for so long." His tone held a bit of rebuke in it still, though he rubbed his hand soothingly over her bare back. She was only in her smallclothes and breastband, not having bothered to fully dress while waiting for him, and she was grateful for it now, very much appreciating the feel of his rough, warm hand on her bare skin.

She hesitated as she thought through all the reasons that she'd believed were perfectly acceptable at the time, tangled up as they were, some of them rooted so deep she wasn't sure she could give voice to them. "I had a few reasons, but mainly, as I said, I didn't want you to be disappointed. I know how badly you wanted to have a child, and I didn't want to get your hopes up if Morrigan's potion didn't work, or if I lost the baby before it was ever born. I didn't want to get your hopes up only to destroy them." She didn't meet his eyes, instead leaning her head against his chest, for while that was the truth, it wasn't all of it.

"And what about you? You wanted a child too. Were you just planning on dealing with the pain all by yourself if you lost the baby? You weren't ever going to tell me?" She shrugged, unsure what she would have done in that case. She'd spent most of her spare time busy praying to the Goddess that it wouldn't ever happen, not thinking about what she would do if it did. "I still don't understand what you were thinking." He sounded equally confused and frustrated right now, and more than a little hurt.

It was the hurt that finally drove her to say, "I was afraid."

"Afraid? Of what?" This time Alistair forced her eyes up to meet his with a hand on her chin, searching her face, and wouldn't let her look away.

"As soon as Neria confirmed I was pregnant, I was thinking about telling you right away, and then she started listing some of the things to watch out for, and told me that it wasn't uncommon to lose a baby in the early stages of pregnancy. That's when I . . . became afraid. Afraid that if I told you right away, and something happened and I did lose the baby, that you'd . . ." Her voice broke and she shook her head minutely in his grip. It was a ridiculous, irrational fear, and she was ashamed of herself for thinking it, much less for letting it be one of the main reasons she hadn't told him yet.

"Afraid I'd what?" he pressed when she didn't go on. "Please, love, I can see your fear. I can _feel_ it and it's killing me." He brushed a thumb gently over her cheek, though he still didn't let her go. "Tell me."

"It was stupid," she told him. "It was irrational. But . . . I was afraid that if I lost the baby, especially if it happened while I was on a mission the first few months, because I wasn't about to stay behind when I was still fully capable of fighting, that you'd . . . blame me. That eventually you'd come to . . . hate me for it."

His hand dropped from her face as though it had burned him, horror and hurt swamping him as he scooted out from under her, backing away from her, shaking his head. "You actually thought . . . how could you even _think_ that I would ever . . ." He buried his head in his hands, and she suddenly wanted to cry at the terrible hurt rising through him, the sensation like stabbing knives. He looked up suddenly, pinning her with a fierce look. "Do you not trust me? Is that it?"

"Alistair, how could you ask that?" she demanded, hurt piercing her in turn. "Of course I trust you! Have I not trusted you with my very life, soul, and heart? I told you, it wasn't a rational fear. I was ashamed of myself for even thinking it, which is why I didn't want to tell you about it, but I couldn't make it go away. And may I remind you, you once thought I would come to resent you for not being able to provide me with children. Did that mean that _you_ didn't trust _me_?"

He blinked, looking a little stunned as he clearly remembered their first discussion about children, the hurt rapidly diminishing in him, causing her to take a relieved breath. "No. No, of course not. It was," he gave her a wry look, "an irrational fear. And as I recall, you still told me I was an idiot for even thinking it. As you are if you ever thought I could possibly hate you for _any_ reason, but especially one that wouldn't even be your fault."

She smiled. "You're right. I am an idiot. Like I said, I knew it was stupid, but I couldn't seem to dismiss it, and so for that and other reasons, I kept the whole thing secret from you for as long as I thought I possibly could, hoping I'd be past the stage where I'd have to worry about it by the time I told you."

He pulled her closer again, so they were facing one another on the bed as he took her hands in his once more, squeezing them lightly. "Let me help you dismiss it then, so you never worry about it again. Because I'm only going to explain this to you once," he told her, echoing her words from their earlier conversation with a mocking grin. "Yes, I want a child, but I want _our_ child, because I love you more than anything, as I've told you before. And even if we lose the baby, no matter the circumstances, I will still love you. I'd be upset if we lost the baby, of course, as I know you would be, but I'd be able to live with it so long as I still had you. Because you are my heart, my soul, my life, and I can't live without you. And you have no reason – irrational or otherwise – to believe that I ever could, do you understand?"

Ayla nodded, smiling. She'd been wrong to think before that he couldn't relieve her any more than he already had. She should have known her mate would find a way to turn her head even more with his sweet words; he'd always been so good at it. "Just when I think I can't love you any more than I already do," she teased him, tossing his earlier words back at him in turn, feeling more light-hearted than she had in months. "You always manage to surprise me, my love."

He grinned at her, and she could feel that sunshine welling up in him again, a welcome sensation after the turbulent ones they'd both dealt with for the past several minutes. "I'm glad to hear it. I won't be giving you up for any reason, but if I can manage it at all, I'll be keeping _both_ of you." He let go of one of her hands to press his over her bare stomach. "Is there really a baby in there?"

"There is," she answered softly, seeing the awe in his eyes and feeling the glow of his happiness trigger her own as he rubbed gentle circles over her belly. "Our baby."

"Our baby," he echoed, looking up at her, and she nearly gasped at the sudden flare of heated lust that spiked through him as he said the words. "We made it together."

"We did," she agreed almost breathlessly, feeling an answering lust rise up through her. It had been a few weeks now since she'd last had his hand on her bare skin, and she suddenly wanted that hand – and that mouth of his – everywhere on her, very badly, the need nearly overwhelming in its sudden and surprising urgency. "I don't suppose you remember how we did it?" she added, striving to make her tone teasing instead of breathless.

"Well, I don't know if I remember all of the exact details . . ." His hand rubbed a little lower on her stomach, teasing its way below the edge of her smallclothes, while his other hand finally let go of hers in favour of trailing up her side, his eyes hotly following the path of his fingers as they came steadily closer to her breastband. "So I might have to make some up," he went on, his voice deepening to a low rumble, "but I'm sure I can at least remember the basics of how we did it."

"Good, because I think I need you to refresh my memory." She unwound her breastband hastily, allowing her already aching breasts to fall free. Now that there was no need to hide it, she wanted him to find out just exactly how sensitive she was to his touch there.

He didn't disappoint her, either; the hand that had been trailing up her ribcage immediately went to one breast, caressing it, his thumb rubbing over her nipple, and she cried out sharply at the lightning bolt of lust that shot through her at the touch. Her hips bucked, causing his other hand to slide a bit closer to her core, further beneath her smallclothes.

"Ayla . . ." His eyes shot up to hers, blazing with heat. "Something else you need to tell me, love?"

"I might . . . be a little more sensitive to your touch . . . there . . ." Her breath hitched out the last word in a long, low moan as his mouth closed over the nipple he'd been tormenting, sucking on it strongly, the pleasure flashing through her so intensely it was almost painful. She gripped his hair in her hand, pulling his head back. "Need you to stop," she gasped. "It's too . . . much."

He shook his head. "No." He pulled her hand free from his hair, and before she quite knew what had happened, she was flat on her back on the bed, pinned beneath the weight of him, one of his hands keeping hers pressed together above her head. "You, my love, need to be punished for keeping secrets from me."

She felt like she was burning up from the inside out at his words, at the half-wild look in his eyes, and at the throbbing arousal currently pressed against her thigh. "Do I now? And just how do you plan to do that with so many clothes on still?"

He raised his eyebrows at her. "You have a good point." He pushed himself off her, piercing her with a fierce glare. "Don't move," he ordered her sternly as he stood up, beginning to strip off the tunic and breeches he wore.

She couldn't help herself; she enjoyed it when he got all dominant with her, and she wanted to see just what he intended to do if she did move. Plus, she was about half-mad with lust herself, so as soon as he was naked, she was across the bed, gripping his fully aroused cock in her hand and stroking it, causing him to groan loudly as the fire swirled ever higher in both of them. She'd only got a few strokes in, and was about to take him in her mouth when she suddenly found herself pinned again.

"I thought I warned you not to move," he growled at her, sounding rather breathless himself, while she revelled in the feel of his warm, hard body pressing down on hers.

"So what are you going to do about it?" she challenged him, wriggling her body beneath his, unable to suppress a moan as her breasts brushed against his chest.

"I'll make sure you don't get to touch me while you're being punished." Before she could quite work out what he meant by that, he'd bound her hands together above her head with her breastband. She tugged experimentally, pleased and intrigued as she always was when he took control like this; the longer they'd been together, the bolder he had grown with it, knowing how much she liked it. He'd gotten better at the tying, too; it wasn't too tight, but she wouldn't be getting out of it anytime soon, not without a focus she suspected she'd soon be lacking.

As if to confirm her suspicions, he sat up a little, trailing his hands down her arms until he'd reached her breasts again, cupping them in both hands, kneading them and rolling her nipples with his fingers. "Alistair . . ." she moaned, her whole body alight with desire as she felt the liquid warmth growing between her legs. Then she shrieked when his mouth closed on her nipple again, licking and sucking strongly, the intense need throbbing through her with each pull of his mouth.

By the time he'd switched to her other breast, she was a writhing mess, trying to yank her hands free, aching to touch him and arching her hips against him, desperate to have her mate inside her. "Alistair, please," she begged. "I need you in me. Deep inside me."

He moaned against her breast at the words, flicking his tongue over her nipple, and the vibration combined with the sensitivity of her breasts and the fire raging through her was too much. She crested hard, fire and pleasure bursting through her body, making her see stars.

Before she'd quite recovered from that, he'd slid down her body, pulling her smallclothes off and parting her thighs gently, his hands sliding up her legs as he did so. "Have you been punished enough, love?" He played his fingers teasingly over her entrance.

"Yes," she gasped, lust rising in her again at the touch so close to her aching core, surprising her with how fast it was building up once more - though she wasn't going to complain about it.

"You'll never keep secrets from me again?" he prompted, his thumb flicking over her throbbing nub.

"Never," she managed, her mind addled both from the feel of his fingers and thumb lightly toying with her, and from the fever-pitch of the lust she could feel coming from him in spite of the calmness of his words. He was close to bursting, and his control was wearing thin. With that in mind, she pushed him a little further, arching her hips up in offering. "Take me, my love, my mate. You know how much I want you to."

"Ayla . . ." he breathed, and she could clearly see the struggle on his face. Just when she thought she'd won, though, he slipped two fingers deeply within her, making her cry out. "Maker, you're so wet . . ." he leaned up to murmur the words in her ear as he curled his fingers, stroking them deeply in her, over and over, causing her hips to buck again.

This time, when she screamed her release, he swallowed the cry with his own mouth, kissing her hard and thoroughly. She met his tongue, stroke for stroke as she rode out the wave, wishing desperately that she could wrap her arms around him, could keep his head in place when he pulled it away, but she hadn't worked herself loose yet.

He was just poised at her entrance, about to take her as she'd demanded, her body quivering with the anticipation of it, when he froze, his eyes widening as a sudden thought obviously occurred to him. "The baby . . . I'm not going to –"

"No, no," she interrupted him hastily, immediately understanding his concern and wanting to reassure him before he changed his mind. "You will not hurt the baby, no matter how far along I am, I promise you. You'll just annoy its mother if you don't bloody take me like I asked you to –"

Her words cut short when he thrust deeply into her, the hard length of him filling her in the way she'd so desperately missed these past few weeks while they travelled. She moaned in satisfaction at the feeling, raising her hips to meet his, wrapping her legs around him. "Punishment . . . over?" she got out between frantic thrusts, lifting her hands up. When he didn't answer immediately, she deliberately tightened herself around his cock, causing him to let out a strangled noise as he froze once more.

"It's over," he agreed quickly, untying her hands before he took up his rhythm again, thrusting in and out rapidly, his breathing becoming fast and erratic as he moved.

She sighed in relief, flexing her hands for a moment as she matched his strokes before she raked her nails down his back, causing him to growl and swivel his hips, making her moan. She could feel how close he was to his peak, how hot the fire of his lust was blazing, and it was only stoking her own again. She gripped his head in one hand, taking his mouth in a heated kiss again as they moved together, before she jerked his head to the side and bit down hard on the juncture of his neck and shoulder. He let out a harsh cry before he erupted inside her, the pleasure bursting through him triggering her own final fall as her body clutched him tightly, deeply within her before they fell together on the bed, sweaty and spent.

He eventually rolled them over so she could sprawl on top of him as he cradled her against his chest, stroking her skin gently, massaging her muscles carefully. "I shouldn't have done that," he mumbled after a few moments, and she could feel guilt trickling through him as he rubbed her shoulders. "I might have still been a little mad."

"That's fine," she told him, flapping her hand, "because you absolutely should have done that, and I wanted you to. I enjoyed it very thoroughly, believe me."

She peeked up at him, noticing the smile that spread across his face as he breathed out in relief. "I suppose you did. Still, I shouldn't have been so rough with you –"

"Stop that right now," she ordered him. "I have not suddenly become more fragile now that I'm pregnant. The only reason I'm not going on missions anymore is that it will eventually start to slow my reaction time, and being even a few seconds slower could be dangerous. It is not because I am suddenly made of glass, and you'd better not treat me like I am, got it?"

He nodded. "Got it. Still –" he hesitated, and she raised her eyebrows at him, wondering what he was worried about now before he finally went on, "I should have thought about it earlier, but I wasn't exactly thinking clearly. Anyway, you are positive that making love is not going to hurt the baby, right?"

She laughed softly. "Completely positive, I told you. I knew pregnant women back home that continued to bed their mates right up until they gave birth. The babies were always perfectly healthy. You don't need to worry. We can make love as many times as we like and he will be just fine."

Alistair grinned at her. "He?" he repeated, looking curious.

"He," she nodded for emphasis, "will be a handsome, charming, stubborn boy just like his father."

"Really? Because I'm thinking that _she_ –" he stressed the word, smirking at her – "will be a beautiful, brave, troublesome handful just like her mother."

"Well," she poked him in the chest, "I guess we'll just have to wait and see which one of us is right, now won't we?"

"I guess we will." He smacked her lightly on the ass, startling a surprised laugh out of her as he went on, "And when we find out I'm right, I believe I should get some sort of reward."

"Or I get a reward when we find out I'm right," she retorted, though she smiled at him. She could feel nothing but contentment and love at the moment, her worry and fear from earlier nothing but distant memories now that he had reassured her.

She could feel the same emotions flooding back from him as he squeezed her, pressing a kiss lightly to the top of her head. "Fine, then. Whichever one of us is right will get a reward from the other, if you agree." When she nodded, he went on teasingly, "It'll be me, though."

"Is that so?" She rolled her eyes when he nodded smugly. "Well, either way, your child and your mate are hungry." She pushed herself up, crawling over him to get to the other side of the bed, closer to the table and the food he'd brought in earlier.

"I'm hungry too," he agreed as he sat up, and then he scooped her up before she could protest, carrying her over to the table and setting her down in one of the chairs.

She sighed, pulling the tray closer to her and picking up one of the slices of bread. "You're not going to be carrying me everywhere, either," she warned him.

"Of course not," he said amiably, picking up one of the wheels of cheese himself. "I wouldn't dream of it."

She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously as she took a bite of the bread, not believing him for a second, but decided to let it slide in favour of her hunger for the moment, which was suddenly intense, leading her to devour the bread and several other pieces of the food Alistair had brought, while he ate the remainder. They spent the rest of their night discussing their child and its future before Ayla finally succumbed to sleep, more exhausted than she'd realized.

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She was a bit disoriented to wake up the next morning and find that Alistair was not in the bed with her, wrapped around her as he had been when she'd fallen asleep. She sat up and looked around the room, her heart spiking a bit in anxiety when the sunlight falling through the gap in the curtains revealed a room completely empty of her mate.

Just when she was starting to get a little worried, though she couldn't feel any alarming emotions from the bond, she heard his voice murmur quietly outside the door, "Just wait until I see if she's awake."

"I'm awake," she called back to him, wondering who he had with him at the door – Mardin, maybe? – as she scrambled out of bed, hastily tugging on Alistair's discarded tunic which still lay on the floor and would do well enough for clothing until she could get dressed properly in her armor again. "Just give me a minute!"

She could smell, though, as she neared the door, running a hand hastily through her loose hair, that it wasn't her brother with Alistair. There were two other men outside the door, one whose scent she knew immediately, though the other was unfamiliar, making her curious as she pulled open the door to admit Alistair and his guests.

Alistair stepped into the room, back in his plate armor once more as she'd suspected, smiling at her. Nathaniel entered behind him, still wearing the skirted leather armor that he'd always favoured, followed by the young, dark-haired man whose scent Ayla didn't know, who closed the door behind him. He couldn't have been much past eighteen, she thought, and he bore a greatsword similar to Aedan's strapped to his back, over what was very clearly a new suit of plate armor. A blush spread over his face as he took in her loose hair and the large tunic that fell to her knees, leaving her legs bare, and he quickly glanced off to the side, making her smile with amusement.

Nathaniel's expression, however, didn't change as he bowed to her; like most of the senior Fereldan Wardens, he'd caught both her and Alistair in various stages of undress often enough that it no longer bothered him. "My lady," he greeted her.

"Really, Nathaniel?" she said with a sigh. "How many times have we had this conversation?"

A small smile broke across his normally grim face. "Ayla. I'm glad to see you're well. And I'm simply trying to teach our new recruit some manners." He nodded at the younger man.

"I'm glad to see you're well, also. And don't bother, I don't want him calling me that either," she replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. "How did you find us here, anyway?"

"I didn't, actually; the Commander found us," Nathaniel said.

"I went to the dead drop here in Kirkwall this morning," Alistair explained when she turned to look at him in surprise. "I was going to leave word for whoever checked it that we would be delayed for a few days while we stayed to visit your brother. And I didn't want to wake you up just for that; I thought you'd need your sleep." His eyes were warm as they dropped to her stomach before he went on, "Anyway, I found Nathaniel there about to do the same thing."

"I was about to leave word that we were going to delay our return, as well," Nathaniel added. "The others are still at the inn where we stayed last night. We had decided to stay and investigate why we were attacked at the docks yesterday, and I went to the dead drop to leave word, only to find the Commander there."

"Once he'd explained what happened and who our new recruit is, though, I thought we should take care of it instead," Alistair told her. "Besides, it's been quite some time since Nathaniel and the others have been back at the Keep, and Velanna should be back by now as well. I'm sure she'd like to see you, Nathaniel."

"Well, I doubt she'll admit to that," Nathaniel said wryly, "but I'd like to see her. That is, if you're sure you can do without the back-up, Commander."

Alistair nodded. "I'm sure. With Ayla's brother and his friends to help –"

"Just what precisely happened?" Ayla interrupted, curiosity nearly overwhelming her. "Who attacked you? And you haven't introduced your new recruit yet, either."

"Actually, I was the one attacked, my lady," the young man said, finally looking at her, though the blush hadn't abated any. "My name is Carver Hawke, and I just recently went through the Joining after . . . getting tainted down in the Deep Roads. Anyway, we were attacked by a bunch of dwarves down at the docks yesterday, but they seemed to be mainly after me, and they kept saying something about the 'blood of the Hawke'. We managed to defeat them, but I think my sister might be in trouble too. And . . . your brother is Mardin, right?"

"He is, but how did you . . . Oh!" Ayla suddenly remembered the last name of the female mage she was sure her brother was interested in. Hawke, her name had been. Brianna Hawke. "Is your sister Brianna, then? That's quite a coincidence," she said in surprise when Carver nodded.

"So it would seem," Nathaniel agreed before Carver could say anything himself. "I was actually going to leave word at the drop as well that we'd met your brother down in the Deep Roads when we found Carver, but obviously I don't need to, since you've met up with him yourself. And," he hesitated for a moment, glancing over at Alistair, "it seems Anders knows your brother, as well."

Alistair's face went cold instantly, his jaw set with anger as Ayla felt the whirling storm rise up in him. "So he ran to Kirkwall, did he?"

"Alistair." She laid a gentle hand on his arm. "I'm fine, and I told you, I don't blame him for what happened. And may I remind you, I've done a similar thing myself."

"Well, I blame him," Alistair retorted, though he was already calming at her touch. "Not so much for attacking you; I know that was an accident, like what you did to Aedan, but because he didn't listen about Justice in the first place, and because he ran away afterwards rather than face me. And he abandoned us."

"I told him as much," Nathaniel added, his face set in equally angry lines. "He claims that he left for the good of everyone, though."

"Look," Carver said quickly, before Alistair could reply, "I'm sorry to interrupt, and I get that you're all upset with Anders, but my sister could be in real danger, here. And if she's with your brother, so is he. We were attacked by quite a few dwarves, and if they catch my sister alone, or just with your brother . . ."

While Ayla knew Mardin was fully capable of protecting himself, she still couldn't help but be worried at Carver's words. Mardin had always been a bit reckless when it came to protecting others, and even he could be overwhelmed by large numbers, just as her father had been. And that . . . well, she wasn't sure she could live with that, especially not so soon after finally seeing him again. "He's right," she agreed. "We have to go warn Mardy, and Carver's sister, right now. We might already be too late. We can worry about Anders later."

Alistair's face softened, and he pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he obviously felt her worry and fear for Mardy. "You're right. Nathaniel, you go back to the others and take them on the next ship back to Ferelden. Let Varel know we'll be back as soon as we've dealt with this, but it might be a few weeks. And see if Velanna has figured out that message spell she's been working on once you're back; it would be a lot handier than the dead drop if we can send instant messages back and forth. I'm sure you'll do your best to manage affairs with Varel until I can return."

"Of course, Commander." Nathaniel snapped a salute before nodding to Ayla. "Take care, Ayla. I'll see the two of you back at the Keep." He headed for the door, waving in acknowledgement of the farewell Ayla called after him.

Alistair turned to Carver even as Nathaniel left their room. "Carver, you'll be coming with us to investigate these dwarves and why they're attacking you and your family, and once that's resolved and Ayla's had some time to visit with her brother, you'll be coming back to the Keep with us. In the meantime, though, I'll ask you to wait outside the room while she gets ready; we'll get to your sister as soon as we can, I promise."

The blush deepened on Carver's face at the reminder of what Ayla was wearing, she noted with a little amusement cutting through her worry. He was quick to nod, though, snapping a hasty salute in imitation of Nathaniel. "Uh, yes, Commander. I'll, um, I'll be right outside when you're ready. Thank you!"

He beat a hasty retreat to the door, and as soon as it closed behind him, Ayla stripped off Alistair's tunic, pulling on her smallclothes and breastband before hurrying over to the armor stand in the corner where she'd left her drake-scale armor and swords the night before.

"Don't worry, love," Alistair said soothingly as she tugged on her armor. "I'm sure your brother will be fine. In fact, having met him myself now, I'm quite certain he can handle an attack," he added dryly.

Ayla smiled, knowing that Mardy had probably been harder on Alistair than either of them had been willing to admit to, but the amusement still didn't dampen her worry completely. If Mardy had feelings for this Brianna like she thought he might, and considering his line of questioning when she'd seen him last and the fact that she'd caught traces of the woman's scent on him, she was pretty sure that he did, he was likely to be more reckless than usual while protecting her. And if she lost him . . . but no, she wouldn't think of that. She shook her head firmly. He'd be fine. He would.

"I'm sure you're right," she murmured as she finished getting her armor on and strapped on her swords, "but I'll feel better when I see him for myself. Let's go find that mansion he was talking about first, see if he's there."

"All right, love," Alistair agreed as he followed her to the door. They met up with Carver in the hallway before leaving the inn and heading through the streets towards the area of Kirkwall known as Hightown, while Ayla prayed to the Goddess as they went that her brother – and Carver's sister – would both be fine when they got there.

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It was instinct that woke Mardin up, had him rolling his body over Brianna's to protect her before he even knew the reason for it. As soon as the cold steel pierced deeply into his back, though, he understood, as he roared with pain and rage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will flash back a bit on Mardin's POV to show what led to him sleeping in bed with Brianna, and will then go on from here. I just couldn't resist adding this little cliffhanger in at the end ;). Hope you liked it!


	16. Dark Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mardin finally gets the chance to spend the night with Brianna. Following their night together, they are attacked while in bed together by dwarves out for Brianna's blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are some lyrics from a song that I feel is perfect for Brianna and Mardin's relationship:
> 
> Don't send me no angel  
> This city's too cold  
> Cause I need a man with a black heart of gold
> 
> Don't give me no lover  
> If he ain't got the stones  
> Cause I need a man who will fight for his own
> 
> I've seen dark nights  
> Whoa-oh dark nights  
> But only the darkest light can deliver my love
> 
> I couldn't not include it, it was just so perfect! The song is Dark Nights by Dorothy, and it inspired the title of the chapter as well. Enjoy, everyone!

Chapter 16: Dark Nights

"Do you think they know why we left so early?" Brianna asked, walking beside Mardin as they left the Hanged Man, heading for the mansion up in Hightown. Her face was flushed, and she looked embarrassed at the thought that their friends had guessed why they had slipped away from the Wicked Grace game so soon.

Mardin grinned. "I hope so."

"Mardin!" Brianna exclaimed, the flush on her face deepening, even as she bit her lip to stifle a smile.

"I was just joking," he replied mildly. _Mostly_. "But, yes, I imagine they guessed, given the way Varric was smirking. And that Fenris said he would be staying overnight there."

Besides, he'd not been exactly subtle with the way he'd been looking at Brianna throughout the game. Not that he could help it. He'd been unable to get her alone last night as she'd initially promised, since her mother had insisted she remain at home to celebrate the news of Carver's safety once they'd returned from the Wounded Coast. So tonight, when they'd met up at the Hanged Man and she'd promised him in a low voice that she did not have to spend tonight with her mother, he'd been unable to control his eagerness at the memory of what she'd previously promised. He'd spent the majority of the game watching her, and whispering to her now and again of what he was hoping to do later. Eventually, she'd stood up abruptly and declared she was leaving, asking Mardin if he would walk her home, which he'd been only too happy to agree to. He sincerely doubted that any of their friends would have been unable to figure out the reason for their hasty departure, not that he cared. He was simply grateful Isabela had still been away on her latest hunt for the relic, for he could only imagine what comment she would have had and how it might have affected Brianna's mood. As it was, though, Brianna seemed to be almost as eager as he was to head to the mansion where they could finally be alone.

Brianna sighed. "Well, I suppose it doesn't really matter. We wouldn't have been able to keep it secret for that long, anyway. Not with Varric and his spies around."

"No, I suppose not," Mardin agreed. He could feel, as he always did lately, the sensation of being followed and watched. The first few times he'd felt it after coming to Kirkwall, he'd quickly located the culprit with the use of his instincts, only to discover that it was one of Varric's spies that the dwarf refused to stop sending after him, which was why he'd taken to ignoring the sensation now. His instincts would let him know if something became truly dangerous. Right now, he had much better things to think about – such as his first time bedding Brianna. "I'm not worried about whether they know, anyway. Are you?"

She slanted a considering glance up at him, the blush slowly fading before she shook her head, smiling. "No, it's none of their business what we do. And let's hurry up, shall we? I believe you promised I would get to see you naked on purpose this time."

"Oh, you absolutely will. We don't even have to wait if you don't want to." He reached for the hem of his tunic, not having bothered to wear armor to the tavern this time.

"No, don't!" Brianna exclaimed, laughing and waving her hands. "Not out in public with so many people around!" She gestured at the people walking the streets of Hightown, since it was still early evening, the full moon shining brightly down on them.

Mardin grinned and shrugged, though he let his hands drop again. "I don't mind."

"Well, maybe I don't want to share my first real look at that fantastic body of yours with all of Hightown," she murmured as she looked up at him, her cheeks once more flushed.

His grin widened as pride and lust swirled through him. "Fantastic, is it?"

"Not that you need a bigger ego," she said dryly, "but yes, that's what I thought of your body the first time I saw it. And yes, I find you very handsome, also."

"Here I thought I was the one who was supposed to say nice things about how you look," he said teasingly, though he couldn't deny he was pleased – and aroused – at her words. "But go on. Is that all you thought when you saw me naked? Besides being concerned for my safety?" He winked at her.

She whacked him lightly in the side, shaking her head. "Must you tease me so? It was the only thing I could think of to say at the time!"

"Yes, but what were you thinking?" he pressed, both curious and thoroughly enjoying himself.

"I was thinking . . ." She danced a few steps ahead of him, trailing off as she turned to look back at him, looking him up and down. He nodded in encouragement, and she finally went on, "I was thinking that I wanted to know what your body felt like under my hands – and my mouth."

He sucked in a breath, his whole body clenching tight with want at her words – and at the sudden mental picture of her doing just what she'd said. "Goddess," he breathed, "are you trying to make me lose control?"

She smiled at him, keeping just that few steps ahead and out of his reach as she walked backwards in front of him. "It would be rather nice to see you flustered for once. Now you'd better hurry up so I can find out what you feel like." With that, she turned and began running ahead of him towards the mansion, laughing.

He stared after her for a second, surprised, before he raced after her, pleased that she was teasing him and seemed to be enjoying herself as much as he was. He caught up to her just as she reached the door to the mansion, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her to face him as he pressed her body up against the door with his own. "You shouldn't run from a shifter unless you want to be hunted," he told her, threading his other hand in her hair and tipping her face up to his, her mouth only a breath away from his own.

She smiled up at him, her violet eyes glowing as she slipped her arms around his neck. "That was the idea," she said, before she tugged him the rest of the way down.

He felt suddenly wild and needy as soon as their lips met, the passion he'd been feeling for her from the first moment he saw her barely held in check as she willingly opened her mouth to his tongue, letting him drink of the heady taste of her. Goddess, but she tasted better than any woman had a right to. He delved deeper, sweeping his tongue thoroughly through the warmth of her mouth. She moaned softly, pressing herself more tightly against him, and he couldn't suppress his own groan at the feel of her warm, soft body plastered to his. He slipped the hand that had been on the small of her back down to squeeze that luscious rear of hers, pushing her hips further into his, aching for the friction it gave him – and for the incredible smell of her arousal increasing.

Brianna suddenly pulled her mouth from his, gasping for breath, though she didn't try to move away. Not that he thought he was capable of letting go of her at this precise moment. "We should . . . go inside," she managed, sounding completely breathless.

"Probably," he agreed, knowing that she was unlikely to want their first time to be up against the door outside of the mansion.

"That means you need to let go," she prodded him, looking amused.

"Maybe, maybe not," he said, suddenly inspired. He slipped his right hand from her hair, shifting her to the side with his other hand while he opened the door. He scooped her up in his arms as soon as the door was open, slipping through the door with her cradled against his chest.

"What are you doing?" she exclaimed.

"Not letting go," he informed her, kicking the door shut behind them before he headed for his room.

"Why? I can walk," she pointed out, though she didn't bother to move, and indeed, wrapped her arms around his neck, as he walked down the hallway with her.

"I'm sure you can," he said mildly. "Having already caught you once, though, I don't want to give you a chance to run away again."

She laughed. "I won't, I promise."

"Not worth the risk," he decided, balancing her with one arm while he opened the door to his room with the other. He kicked it shut behind him again before carrying her over to his bed and setting her down carefully. "There, now you're stuck here," he declared.

She smiled at him, shaking her head. "Oh? For how long?"

"All night," he promised her, even as he struggled to keep a leash on his passion for her. Somewhere between the door and here, he'd remembered that he wanted to take his time with her, and not rush things as he had done before, not even properly undressing her. It wouldn't be easy, given his lack of control when it came to her and how long he'd wanted her, but he was determined to be slow and thorough, nonetheless. He wanted to make sure that she enjoyed it as much as possible, so that he would get many more opportunities to spend the night alone with her. One night, he was suddenly quite certain, would not be nearly enough.

"All night?" she asked teasingly, raising her eyebrows, even as that blush he found he quite liked spread over her face again. "Is that a promise?"

"Absolutely. Now, I believe you had requested to see me naked again."

She nodded, her eyes suddenly flaring with heat, and he took a deep breath, struggling against the urge to sweep her back into his arms again. Instead, he stripped off his tunic, then his breeches and smallclothes, tossing them aside as he stood naked before her, not bothering to hide how aroused he already was.

She looked him over from her perch on the bed, her gaze growing hotter as the scent of her arousal increased, and he groaned inwardly as lust thrummed through his body just at the smell of her. This would be more difficult than he'd thought.

"I believe," she said, sounding slightly breathless again, "that I had also requested to feel you."

"So you did," he agreed, striving to keep his voice even, "but first I think I should get to see _you_ naked again. It only seems fair."

"I suppose you're right." He watched with bated breath as she unlaced her robes and pulled off her breeches, leaving her in only her breastband and smallclothes, her ivory skin glowing in the light of the lantern he'd left burning low on the side table.

"Wait," he said as she reached for her breastband. "I changed my mind. I think I'd rather do that myself."

She nodded, even as her face was turning red again, and let her hands drop as he closed the last few steps between them, kneeling down before her and reaching for her breastband. He unwound it slowly, watching as her pert, pink-tipped breasts fell free. He tossed the cloth aside, taking both breasts carefully in his hands, kneading them and rolling her nipples between his fingers. She gasped, and then suddenly it was his turn to moan as she splayed her hands across his chest, rubbing her thumbs over his nipples in turn.

The touch of her cool, soft fingers to his skin was like flame striking tinder, and his whole body drew up tight with want. He froze, struggling to keep from pouncing on her as she leaned forward, pressing her lips to his chest and flicking her tongue across his nipple. "Stop!" he gasped as she licked a path across to his other nipple.

Brianna pulled back slightly, looking up at him with a suddenly wicked smile that made his blood flare even hotter. "I thought I was going to get to touch you this time?"

"Well, yes, but you're not naked yet," he said rather desperately, casting about for any excuse to get her mouth off him before he lost all capacity for thought. "So until you are, it's still my turn."

"Well, you'd better hurry up then," she challenged him, still smiling. "I'm not sure how long I can wait."

There was his feisty mage, he thought, unable to stifle a smile himself even as her words did nothing for his self-control. "No," he replied, climbing up on the bed and gently pushing her to lay back, "I'm going to take it slow, this time."

To prove his point, he braced his weight above her, pressing a quick, hard kiss to her mouth before trailing his lips down her neck, to her collarbone, following the path of his hands as he traced every inch of that gorgeous body. "Goddess, your skin is like silk," he groaned against her breast as he traced it with his mouth, his hands dipping lower to skim over her belly and hips. "So soft, so tasty." He sucked her nipple into his mouth even as he slipped his hands beneath the waist of her smallclothes.

"Oh, Maker, would you hurry up, Mardin!" she cried out, arching her hips beneath him.

"No," he growled, even though he was wound so tight by now he felt like he was about to burst. He was going to take his time, even if it killed him.

He trailed his mouth down her stomach, even as he pulled her smallclothes slowly down her legs. His hands had just brushed the back of her knees when she yelped, her hips jerking up just as his mouth drifted below her bellybutton. He raised his head to look at her as he caressed the back of her knees again, white-hot lust flashing through him when she squirmed beneath him again and he scented the sudden spike in her arousal. "Sensitive there, are you?" he drawled.

She nodded, looking wide-eyed with surprise herself. "I guess I must be," she managed.

He moved back a little further, pulling her smallclothes the rest of the way off before he lifted one of her long, gorgeous legs up and pressed his lips to the back of her knee, licking and suckling the soft skin there. "Oh, Maker," she moaned, trying to pull her leg away from him, but he refused to let her.

Instead, he trailed his mouth up the inside of her thigh as his other hand drifted up her opposite thigh, savouring the feel of the silken skin there. By the time his mouth reached the apex of her thighs, the delicious scent of her was nearly overwhelming. "Honey and wine," he murmured, before he slipped his tongue into her core, desperate for the taste of her once again.

She gripped his hair and yanked his head up before he'd gotten very far, however, looking half-wild. "Mardin, please, I want you inside me this time," she demanded.

And with those words, his tenuous hold on his control finally snapped. No longer able to hold back from the instinctive demands of his body, he scooted forward, parting her thighs even further, and buried himself in her with one swift thrust. She cried out, wrapping her legs and arms tightly around him, and he let out a strangled groan, unable to believe how incredible the hot, silken feel of her wrapped around his cock was. The intensity of the feeling was nearly overwhelming, so much more incredible than he'd ever felt before.

No. He shook his head. No, surely it had always felt this way with other women, hadn't it? But then she shifted beneath him, squirming and arching her hips up, and he could no longer even think. Instinct and aching desperation drove him as he thrust in and out, only just able to hold his strength in check but unable to go slowly, which was apparently just fine with her; she was rising up to meet him just as relentlessly, her hands roaming his back and shoulders continually as they moved together.

He kept one hand pressed to that amazing ass of hers, squeezing it and pushing her hips even further into his with each thrust, swivelling his hips so that he might hit the exact right spot, while he kept his weight braced with his other hand. When he felt her begin to shudder and clench around his cock while his own body wound tighter and tighter, he kissed her fiercely, swallowing her scream into his own mouth as she arched against him and her magic burst through him again. The combination of her body squeezing him and the warm wave of her magic flowing through him was enough to trigger his own release, his whole body shuddering as he emptied himself deep within her in almost painful bliss before collapsing limply on top of her.

It took him a few moments to gather enough wits to realize he must be almost crushing her, and he rolled off her onto his back, though he brought her with him, somehow still unable to let go of her. She lay willingly across his chest, however, and after another few moments of catching their breath, she raised her head to look at him, smiling at him as she teased, "I thought you promised me all night?"

He grinned at her, smacking her lightly on the ass. "I did, and I fully intend to hold to that promise. Just give me a few more moments, and I'll pick up where I left off before you interrupted me with your demands."

"Oh, no you won't," she said, shaking her head at him. He raised his eyebrows at her, surprised, before she went on, "I never got to finish touching you, before. It's my turn."

"Oh?" He smiled at her, pleased and intrigued as he tucked his hands behind his head. "Go ahead, then. It would be rude of me to deny a lady her turn."

"It would," she agreed, sitting up and straddling him, causing him to suck in his breath at the sudden surge of want flowing through him. "So you'd better not interrupt me this time until I'm finished."

"I'll try," he said with a shrug as she leaned over him, running her hands up his chest, "but I'm not making any promises."

It turned out to be a good thing he did not, for he only made it through a few minutes of torturous bliss under her hands and surprisingly clever mouth before his control broke again and he flipped her over, picking up precisely where he had left off before. After all, she had all night to resume her turn later.

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It was instinct that woke Mardin up, had him rolling his body over Brianna's to protect her before he even knew the reason for it. As soon as the cold steel pierced deeply into his back, though, he understood, as he roared with pain and rage.

He reached behind him instantly, catching the arm that had plunged the short sword into his upper back as it yanked the steel out again, twisting hard. The wielder shrieked as their arm snapped like a dry twig, trying to pull away. He kept his grip, however, using it as he whirled around to fling the person away with all his considerable strength. They hit the wall with a resounding thud and cry, but he was already moving, leaping off the bed to follow, rage pulsing through him.

"Mardin, what -?" He could hear Brianna cry behind him, but he ignored her, his entire, furious focus on the dwarf slumped against the wall opposite him. His target had been Brianna. For that, he would pay. The dwarf lifted crazed eyes to Mardin as he reached him, cradling his arm, murmuring, "Wrong blood. It should be the blood of the Hawke. Must – have – "

"I'll show you blood," Mardin snarled, grabbing the dwarf's head in his hands and twisting hard, snapping the dwarf's neck easily, nearly ripping the head entirely off the body in his rage.

"Mardin, look out!" Brianna shouted.

A sword slashed across the back of his thigh, and he cried out, whirling around at the same moment as Brianna's lightning struck the new offender behind him. Another dwarf was blown backwards into the wall from the force of her spell, his body jerking with electricity. Mardin ignored him, knowing that the spell would be enough to finish him off. Now that he had turned around, he'd seen the four other dwarves, all dressed in varying types of leather and chainmail armor, wielding daggers or swords, filing into the room. Two were heading towards the bed and Brianna, the other two were coming towards him, crazed looks on all of their faces as they all mumbled something about the "blood of the Hawke."

Mardin scooped up the short sword dropped by the dwarf he'd just killed, his own sword on the armor stand and the dagger he kept under his pillow both too far away, and marched towards the dwarves. He used the sheer fury and adrenaline washing through him to ignore the pain and the blood trickling down his leg and back, racing forwards and batting aside the first dwarf's sword, ignoring the slice on his left arm as he stabbed the sword straight through the dwarf's chest, yanking it downwards viciously. He roared when the second dwarf's dagger pierced him in the side, twisting away quickly and pulling the sword out, flinging it straight at the one who'd just attacked him.

The dwarf cried out as the short sword hit home in his left shoulder, his steps halting, and that was long enough for Mardin to pounce on him, grabbing his arms and yanking them upwards until the dwarf screamed as they popped free from the shoulders, nearly tearing free from his body altogether. Letting go of the dwarf's arms, Mardin snapped this one's neck too, this time ripping the head right off in his all-consuming rage, tossing it aside carelessly. In the next instant, he was on his feet, whirling to see where the other two had gone, only to see the charred corpse of one lying several feet away. The other had apparently just been frozen solid by Brianna, who was standing up on the bed, hands outstretched, having just finished casting the spell.

His feelings far from being relieved, Mardin smashed a fist through the frozen dwarf, shattering him into dozens of pieces, before he turned and stalked away from the bed, struggling for some kind of control over his fury.

They had been after Brianna. They'd been talking about her blood. They had been aiming for _her_ when he'd rolled his body over hers to protect her. If he hadn't been there, if he had woken up just a few seconds later, she could have died. If she'd died while under his protection, while sharing his bed, he – he'd – the bear rose up inside him with a roar at the thought, and he struggled to tamp it down. Rage was still pulsing through him, red-hot and misting his vision, demanding more blood. The bear wanted more dwarves to kill, more of their blood to revel in. How _dare_ they attack her? How _dare_ they try to kill his mate right in front of him? He could feel the change wanting to shimmer through him, could feel his eyes starting to shift and his teeth starting to lengthen against his will, and he fought against it, trying in vain to bring himself under control. If he let the bear loose now, he would become the monster everyone had always thought him to be.

"Mardin!" He could hear the hurried footsteps behind him as Brianna made her way towards him, having jumped off the bed. "Maker, you're bleeding everywhere, let me – "

"Don't touch me!" he snarled, stepping further away from her, terrified that right now, anything could make him lose the shaky hold he had over the bear. If he lost control with her right there, he might – _No_. He clenched his fists hard, taking deep breaths as he struggled with the change wavering through his body.

"I'll touch you if I bloody well feel like it!" she yelled at him. "Look at you! You're covered in wounds because you seem to think your body itself is a shield! What kind of idiot is that reckless?! You had no weapons, you had no armor, and you threw yourself right into that fight like you were invincible! How could you be so stupid?! And healing magic is at its most potent when it's used through touch, so how about you shut up and let me fix you?!"

Without further ado, she laid her cool hand over his wounded and bleeding upper back, and the soothing warmth of her healing magic began to flow through his body. Mardin stood there for a moment in abject shock as he realized the bear had quieted completely and his rage was suddenly gone. He was unsure if its disappearance was due to the amusement that had washed through him at the realization she was yelling at him for getting wounded – again – or if it was due to the touch of her hand or the feel of her healing magic. At any rate, it was gone, and he let out a breath of relief at the knowledge that he would not become a monster – not today, anyway.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly after a moment, feeling the healing magic working its way through his body, dissipating his pain and pulling together the wounds in his back, in his side, on his thigh and on his arm. "I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. It's just – there's something I should have told you a long time ago."

"Oh?" She still sounded a bit irritated, but her voice was mostly threaded with curiosity now as she went on, "What should you have told me?"

He was suddenly glad his back was to her, that he couldn't see her face as he told her this. He'd told her not to be afraid, before, but he realized now she should be. He'd come so close to attacking her, simply because he couldn't control his rage. She would think him a monster, now, once he told her the truth about the animal that lay within him. If, he admitted quietly to himself as he looked at the bodies of the dwarves before him, she didn't think that already.

He took a deep breath. Nonetheless, this needed to be said. She had to know, even if it meant she would turn away from him. "Shifters – we can turn into abominations, too. Monsters. I – almost did, just now. We are as much animal as we are human, sometimes. We often struggle for control against the animal within. And if we become overwhelmed with emotion, such as rage, we might shift without meaning to, without being in control of it. If we do . . . we become monsters. We are no longer ourselves, we are nothing but wild animals, and we attack everyone, even our friends, unprovoked. And I almost lost control to my rage, just then, after those dwarves tried to kill you. I could feel the bear starting to overwhelm me, and that's why I snapped at you. I was afraid I was about to change, and hurt you."

"But you didn't."

"What?" He sucked in a breath, hardly daring to believe what he'd just heard. She'd said it so simply, and she didn't sound afraid, or angry, or disgusted, or any of the reactions he'd come to expect. Nor had her healing magic stopped washing through his body.

"You didn't," she repeated. "You didn't hurt me. In fact, you seem fine now. Why?"

"I'm . . . not sure," he admitted. "Maybe because you yelled at me for getting hurt, like you did before with the dragon, and it amused me. Or maybe because you touched me, and rage is the last thing I feel when you touch me. I don't know. All I know is, the rage is gone, and the bear is quiet now. But . . . I was so close. I almost lost control, and if I had . . ."

"But you didn't," she said again, softly. He nearly jumped with shock when he felt her press her whole body to his back, her other arm coming around his waist as her spell continued unabated and she held him tight, her cheek pressed to his back. "You're back to normal, and I don't have a scratch on me, thanks to you."

"You're . . . really not afraid?" he asked in wonder, laying his hand over hers, feeling strangely comforted by her embrace.

"Are you afraid of me?" she asked in turn.

"What?" He frowned, squeezing her hand. "Of course not. Why would I be?"

She laughed softly, the sound full of wonder and joy. "I am a mage, Mardin. We can lose control and become abominations, too. If I ever give into temptation of any kind from a demon – rage, desire, hunger, greed, whatever – I'll become a monster that attacks my friends too. And I'm no more immune than any other mage. I've come close once or twice myself, especially after Bethany died. The important thing is that I didn't lose control, and neither did you. So no, I'm not afraid of you. Especially not when it seems all I have to do to bring you out of it is yell at you. I'm sure I can manage that," she finished teasingly.

"Hmm." He smiled, his heart feeling suddenly and inexplicably light. When had any non-shifter accepted who he truly was, the monster inside, so fully, so easily? He couldn't recall, but he was incredibly relieved that she had – more relieved, in fact, than he cared to examine. So he fell back on a much simpler emotion, using his hand to slide hers further down his body. "I'd much rather you touched me. It could just as easily have been that, you know. I think we should experiment frequently to make sure."

She laughed again, tugging her hand free, and he let her with a reluctant sigh as she drew back a little again, though her other hand remained on his back as her magic continued to flow. "Maybe later. I still need to finish healing you, you know."

"No, you don't," he insisted, though he didn't move. "I'm fine." Which was true enough; the pain felt as though it was almost entirely gone, though perhaps the initial wound in his back still ached a bit.

"No, you're not," she said critically. She sighed, stopping the spell short and pulling her hand free. "But I'm afraid I've done all I can. The wound on your back was deep; we'll need Anders to fix it properly."

He turned to look at her, frowning when he noticed how disappointed in herself she looked. "We don't," he insisted, moving his shoulders to demonstrate, ignoring the twinge he felt as he did so. "I'm fine, honestly. What we need to do is figure out why these dwarves were after you. You're sure that you're fine?" He looked her over closely, trying to ignore the fact that her lovely body was bare to his gaze still, and instead focus on whether it was marred by any wounds.

She smiled warmly at him, turning a full circle for his benefit. He groaned involuntarily at the glimpse of her lush backside as she did so, suddenly aching to have his hands on it again, before she turned to face him, smirking at him. "See? Not a scratch on me, like I said. Thanks to you using yourself as a shield like a moron."

"What else was I going to use?" he asked reasonably. "Not like I had time to go get my shield. If I'd been any slower . . ." He frowned as the thought washed through him anew at just what could have happened had his instincts not awoken him, and felt the rage begin to build again at the thought. There was another emotion buried beneath, one that he couldn't readily identify and chose to ignore as he tried to calm himself down again.

"Hey," she said softly, laying a hand on his arm, causing him to take a deep breath at the sudden soothing – and distracting – touch. "Calm down, okay? Nothing happened to me, so don't worry about it anymore, all right?"

"Okay, I won't," he agreed, determined not to think about it again, for it was much too disturbing when he did. "But still, we do need to find out why they were here, and what they wanted with your blood. They kept talking about the 'blood of the Hawke.' There could be more of them, and we need to find out if there is before they attack again." _In case I'm not there next time_. Though he wasn't intending on letting her out of his sight any time soon, just in case. She was an important part of his destiny, so he had to keep her safe to find out what it was; that's why he was worried, he assured himself.

She nodded. "You're right, we do need to find out what they were doing here. And how did they even know I was here, anyway?"

He sighed. "They were probably following us, earlier, and waited until we were asleep." He explained how he'd felt that they were being watched and followed, but had ignored the sensation, since he couldn't differentiate between Varric's spies and anyone else who was actually dangerous until they chose to attack. Particularly when they weren't after him. "It seems we need to start locking the door. Maybe setting some traps, as well."

"I can probably come up with some magical defenses, as well," Brianna offered. "But first, we should go tell Varric what happened. Maybe those spies of his can actually be useful, for once, and find out who these dwarves were, and why they were after me. And maybe help us clean up this mess," she added ruefully, looking around the room. "We should also go to Anders, get him to finish healing you."

"That's really not necessary," Mardin protested. "I'm fine. It's more important that we find out if there are more of these dwarves, anyway."

"And I say you're not fine." Brianna reached around to poke him in the back, directly over where the wound had been, startling a yelp out of him at the surprising stab of pain in the muscles beneath, even though the surface was closed. "I know I didn't fix you completely, and we _will_ get Anders to fix that before you go fighting any more dwarves, got it?"

He grinned, finding the flare of anger in her eyes and her commanding tone surprisingly sexy as he held up his hands in defense. "Got it. But we should go to Varric first."

"All right," she agreed, smiling a little as the anger faded from her eyes. "Let's get dressed and go see Varric. But make sure to bring your actual shield and weapons this time, please?"

"I promise," he told her, finding his smallclothes and pulling them on before crossing over to his armor stand. As she had pointed out before, he could hardly protect anyone if he got himself killed, so now that he was thinking clearly, he would take the time to arm himself and not be so reckless in the next battle, should one occur on the way to Varric. Because no one, he vowed as he began to pull on his armor, not those dwarves or anyone else, would be taking any of her blood so long as he drew breath. He only hoped that Varric could truly find out who they were, for if there were any more of them, he was determined to kill them long before they could reach Brianna.

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"Well, I've found out who attacked you, Hawke," Varric declared two days later, as he stood in front of the kitchen table in the mansion. Mardin sat at the table across from him, next to Brianna, while Merrill, Fenris, and Anders took up the other seats. Aveline had been attending a meeting with the Viscount this morning, and so had been unable to join them, and Isabela had not yet returned from her relic hunt, but the others had all agreed to join the emergency meeting that Varric had called for this morning to explain what he'd found. "Not why, but who, and where they're holed up. Not that any of it makes sense, though."

"You were attacked, Hawke?" Merrill cried in surprise from her seat at the kitchen table. "Creators, what happened?"

"Yes, you never did explain the details of the attack," Fenris added.

"Hold on," Brianna said, lifting her hands in defense. "I'll explain everything now, okay?"

Mardin, noting the light blush on her cheeks, guessed that she probably hadn't properly explained everything to anyone besides Varric due to when and where the attack had occurred. In spite of what she'd claimed about not caring what they thought, he suspected she was still a bit embarrassed to let the others in on the details of her private life. For himself, he couldn't care less about what the others knew, but if she did, he would at least try to keep his mouth shut. She gamely began to explain the attack from the beginning, however, though she glossed rather quickly over the fact that they had been in bed together, sleeping off the after-effects of a very active and memorable (for Mardin, at least) night. She hadn't gotten very far, however, before there was a loud knock at the front door.

Everyone turned to look at the door leading out of the kitchen towards the great hall where the front door was in unison, surprised. "Who could that be?" Anders asked. "We weren't expecting anyone else, were we?"

Brianna shook her head, looking perplexed. "No. Unless Aveline finished her meeting early, maybe?" She got to her feet, heading for the door.

Mardin leapt to his feet as well, catching her arm before she got very far. "Hold on. I'll go see who it is, just in case."

She blew out an exasperated breath, rolling her eyes at him. "If it is more of those dwarves out to attack me, I really doubt they'd knock on the door first."

"You never know," he insisted stubbornly. He'd been careful to let her out of his sight as little as possible over the last two days while Varric did his research, even insisting that she stay with him at the mansion at night, since they'd set it up with traps and some magical defenses later that same day. Of course, he didn't mind sharing his bed with her each night, either. He knew she was starting to get impatient with his restrictions, but that didn't mean he was about to let up on them, not until they knew what was going on, anyway. She scowled at him, but he ignored her as he marched out of the kitchen towards the front door.

He kept his hand on his sword hilt, which had also rarely been out of his sight over the last two days, as he pulled open the heavy wooden door. He didn't sense any immediate danger, but he'd been so edgy lately that he barely trusted his instincts anymore. His hand dropped away from his sword hilt as soon as he saw who stood on the other side, however. "Ayles?" he exclaimed, relieved and pleased to see his little sister before him once more.

She beamed, looking equally relieved to see him. That idiot mate of hers stood a little behind her, along with – Carver?! Mardin thought, shocked. Before he could ask just what Carver was doing with Ayla, his little sister exclaimed, "Mardy, you're all right!"

He frowned. "Of course I'm all right. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because you're a reckless moron?" Brianna suggested sweetly from behind him.

Mardin sighed, rolling his eyes. She obviously wasn't about to let that one go anytime soon; she'd called him some variation of that several times over the last two days.

Ayla laughed and Alistair snorted, looking amused. "Runs in the family, does it?" he asked.

"Bree!" Carver exclaimed before Mardin or anyone could reply. "Has anyone attacked you? Are you okay?"

"Carver!" Brianna pushed past Mardin in the doorway, flinging herself at her younger brother, hugging him tightly. "What are you doing here?!"

Mardin glanced between her and his sister, noting with amusement the way his sister was frowning up at her mate after his words. "Does that mean you're calling me a reckless moron?"

"No, I didn't mean that," Alistair hedged, looking flustered while Carver said something to Brianna about how he'd been attacked, also. "I only meant the reckless part, really . . ."

Ayla crossed her arms, glaring up at him while Mardin smirked at the uncomfortable look on the other man's face. "I certainly hope so. If not, you might want to remember that sex we were planning on having _ever_ again."

Alistair turned bright red as he glanced quickly at Brianna and Carver, who didn't appear to be listening, protesting, "Ayla!"

She grinned. "I'm just kidding, of course. I'd have an entirely different punishment in mind." The sly tone as she said it left little doubt as to the nature of such a punishment, which only caused her mate to turn redder and start spluttering, much to Mardin's increasing amusement. Until Ayla turned to him, that is. "And just what did your friend mean by you being a reckless moron, Mardy?"

"Oh, nothing," Mardin said quickly, knowing his sister's reaction would be much the same as Brianna's had been when she yelled at him. "Anyway, you should all come inside. Almost everybody's here," he added, turning to Carver.

Brianna, having let go of Carver, turned to him and frowned in much the manner Ayla just had. "It's not nothing," she said. "But he's right. You should all come inside and get the whole story. And Carver, you can tell yours to everybody else."

She headed inside, sweeping past Mardin with a raised eyebrow that indicated she fully intended to tell Ayla exactly how wounded he'd been, and he sighed, knowing there wasn't any way past it. He stepped to the side of the door, gesturing to the others to go past him. Alistair and Ayla went through first, following Brianna to the kitchen, though his sister shot a warning glance at him as he went by. Carver followed them, stopping to whisper to Mardin, "Everybody's here? Merrill too?"

"She is," Mardin confirmed, noting that Carver looked both eager and nervous. "She seemed to like your letter, too."

"She did?" Carver's face turned pink, much as Merrill's had when she read the letter. "I hope she's glad to see me."

"She will be," Mardin reassured him, clapping him on the shoulder. "She was pretty devastated when I told her what happened to you, before we got word that you'd survived the Joining. And she was very happy to hear you'd survived. As was I. Glad to have you back, Carver."

"Thanks," Carver muttered, looking embarrassed as he rubbed at the back of his neck. "Glad to be back. I know you protected Bree, again. I can't thank you enough for that. I'll be able to stick around for a little while until we figure out why we were attacked and solve it, but after that, I'll have to leave again, so . . ."

Mardin nodded, hearing the unspoken request. "I'll keep an eye on everybody, don't worry."

The two of them started towards the kitchen, Mardin swinging the door shut behind them, but they'd only gotten partway there when they heard Anders cry out in surprise from the kitchen. "Commander?!"

Suddenly remembering what Anders had once said about accidentally attacking Ayla, and how that other Warden, Nathaniel, had reacted to seeing him again, Mardin picked up his pace, hurrying towards the kitchen with Carver right by his side. He reached the door just in time to hear Alistair reply coolly, "You're still calling me that? And here I thought you ran away so you didn't have to be under my command, anymore. I mean, I'm nothing but a prejudiced former Templar to you, right?"

Mardin entered the kitchen to see a flustered Anders on his feet, shaking his head. "That's not what I . . . I don't . . . I just . . . thought it was best for everyone if I left, that's all."

Alistair, Mardin noted, looked coldly furious as he stared at Anders, not moved by the other man's flustered excuses. Ayla moved between them, laying a hand on her mate's arm, saying softly, "Calm down, Alistair. Give him a chance to explain."

Alistair scowled. "Explain how he refused to listen when I said that merging with Justice was a bad idea? Or how his refusal to obey orders led to him attacking you? Or should I let him explain how he abandoned his brothers and sisters without a word to anyone?"

Anders was looking increasingly miserable with each accusation flung his way, hanging his head, and Ayla raised her eyebrows at Alistair, jerking her head in the mage's direction and then giving her mate a significant look. Alistair sighed, his face softening as he looked down at her before finally nodding in reply. "Fine. If you do have an explanation, Anders, go ahead."

Anders lifted his head, looking surprised, before he cast a grateful glance at Ayla. Taking a deep breath, he began, "Well . . . first of all, Commander, I'm sorry. You were right about Justice. I should have listened to you, but I suppose I . . . might have been blinded by my own prejudices, and I didn't realize that until it was too late. Until after I'd . . . lost control and attacked Ayla. I'm so sorry, again," he said to Ayla.

She shook her head. "It's fine. I'm fine, because you gained control right away and healed me," she added significantly, squeezing Alistair's arm, as his face had started to darken again at the reminder of the attack. "And like I told you before, I don't blame you for losing control. No shifter ever would." She glanced at Mardin as she said this, and he nodded grimly, remembering how close he himself had just come to doing the same thing.

"Thank you," Anders said fervently, and she nodded as he went on, "And as for why I left . . . well, Nathaniel was partly right about that, I suppose. Some of it was just me running away rather than face the consequences of what I'd done. But it was also that I was afraid I'd do it again, and that it would be worse next time, that maybe I wouldn't stop in time . . ." He trailed off for a moment, shuddering. "And besides that, there was already a lot of controversy over you conscripting mages. If the people of Amaranthine had found out I was possessed on top of being a mage, it would have caused big trouble for you and the other Wardens. So that's why . . . I thought it would be best for everyone if I just left. And why I think it would be best if I stayed gone. Besides, I've found people who need my help more."

"Anders has done a lot for the people of Kirkwall," Brianna interjected, moving forward to lay a hand on Anders' shoulder as he cast a grateful look at her. "He's started a free healing clinic down in Darktown, so that people who can't afford healing can finally have treatment. He's probably saved hundreds of lives since he's been here, and he's definitely saved all of our lives before."

Alistair nodded slowly. "Well, I'm glad to hear some good has come of all this, at least. You know, if you'd just taken the time to explain all this in the first place, and why you wanted to leave, I would have let you go. I'd like to think I'm not an unreasonable tyrant. Or a prejudiced Templar," he added dryly.

"You're not," Anders muttered, looking embarrassed. "I was just afraid, and not thinking straight at the time, so I ran. I'm sorry for everything that happened, and for not explaining myself before. I hope you can forgive me, eventually."

Alistair didn't answer for a long moment, and Mardin saw Ayla elbow him in the side before he finally said, "I'll try. I can't make any promises, but I'll try. And thank you for the explanation, however late it was. At least I know now."

"Well," Varric said briskly, clapping his hands together, "now that all that awkwardness is done with, how about we get down to business? Such as what you're all doing here? Nice to see you again, by the way, Junior."

"Carver?" Merrill exclaimed, looking overjoyed as she leapt up from the table, having apparently just noticed that he was there, hovering uncomfortably behind Mardin in the doorway during the confrontation between the two Wardens. "You're really okay?!"

Carver moved forward towards the table, smiling at the elf. "Yeah, Merrill, of course I am, I said so in my letter, didn't I?"

"Oh, Creators, I'm so glad you're all right!" Merrill exclaimed, hurrying around the table towards him and flinging her arms around him. Carver tentatively returned the hug, looking rather red in the face, until Merrill leaned back, frowning, and tapped on his new plate armor. "I don't think I like this. It makes hugging you very uncomfortable."

"Doesn't it, though?" Ayla said wryly, reaching behind her to tap Alistair's plate armor. He smiled fondly down at her, shaking his head as he slipped an arm around her waist.

"It does," Merrill agreed with her firmly, before turning back to Carver. "I liked your letter very much, Carver. Especially the part where –"

"Uh, maybe we should talk about that later," Carver interrupted her hastily, turning a deeper shade of red. "In private."

"No, by all means, Daisy, continue," Varric prompted, grinning widely.

"Or not," Fenris said with a sigh. "Did you not have a purpose in gathering us all here this morning, dwarf?"

"Oh, right," Varric nodded, though he looked a little disappointed. "Before our unexpected guests arrived, I was going to tell you all what I found out. By the way, why are you here, Junior? I thought you were heading back to Ferelden."

"I was," Carver said, "until I got attacked at the docks before we left." He proceeded to explain to them how he and the other Wardens he'd been with at the time had been attacked by dwarves who'd been after him for his blood, making Mardin frown at the obvious similarity to the attack he and Brianna had experienced. Carver went on to explain how he and Nathaniel had run into Alistair and Ayla, who had decided to stay and help investigate while sending the other Wardens home. "I was afraid they might attack Bree too, so we came here to warn you," Carver finished, nodding at his sister. "But it seems they attacked you first."

"Yes, and I do believe Mardy has some explaining to do about that," Ayla chimed in, glaring fiercely at Mardin.

He sighed, shaking his head. "I told you, it's nothing. I'm obviously fine, aren't I?" He could tell his little sister wasn't buying it, though, as she shook her head at him, frowning.

"You weren't fine," Brianna retorted, and Mardin sighed, knowing she was about to tell Ayla in detail just how many injuries he'd gotten. "And yes, those dwarves attacked me, too, while I was with Mardin." She proceeded to tell the whole story over again from the beginning, and as Mardin had thought, she didn't leave out a single description of his injuries, including the fact that they'd had to go to Anders afterwards to get the initial stab wound fully healed. "And then we asked Varric to look into who the dwarves were, and why they were after me – and apparently Carver, too," she concluded.

Ayla stalked forward and whacked Mardin in the chest. "Ow, Ayles!" he protested, rubbing his chest. "What was that for?"

"You _are_ a reckless moron," she snapped at him, and Brianna looked pleased. "Charging into battle without your weapons?! Using your _arm_ as a shield?! What were you thinking?! I don't want you dead when I've only just found you again!"

"Hey, come on, Ayles, I'm not going to die," Mardin protested, feeling suddenly guilty in a way only his little sister could bring out in him, especially when it looked like tears were starting to pool in her eyes. He pulled her gently into his arms, murmuring above her head, "I'm fine now, I told you. And I'm sorry, but I wasn't thinking. I was on the verge of losing control," he finished so quietly only she would hear.

She looked up at him in sudden understanding. "Then I suppose you're not a total moron," she said softly. "I guess I can't say I wouldn't have done the same thing in your situation."

"You'd better not," he muttered. "Not anymore, anyway." He glanced significantly down at her stomach, and she nodded with a sigh.

"Anyway," Varric said loudly, "if anyone's still interested, I did find out who the dwarves were, and where they were."

"Yes, of course we're still interested, Varric," Brianna said impatiently. "Who were they, then?"

"Well, oddly enough, they were Carta dwarves. Though apparently they've all been missing for a while, and none of the Carta members here in Kirkwall know what they were up to," Varric explained. "But it seems they have some sort of home base in the Vimmark Mountains."

Alistair looked at him oddly. "Did you say the Vimmark Mountains?"

Varric shrugged. "That's what my spies tell me. Why? Does that mean something to you?"

Alistair shook his head. "No, I'm sure it's nothing."

"If you know something, you should tell us," Mardin told him pointedly.

The other man sighed as Ayla crossed back over to him, looping her arm through his. "I don't really know anything. I've just heard rumours that there might be a secret Warden base there."

"Rumours?" Fenris was frowning at him. "Are you not the Warden Commander? Should you not know what bases there are?"

"Only of the Fereldan Wardens," Alistair said with a shrug. "Which, given our small numbers and lack of influence, doesn't really make me privy to a lot of the big Warden secrets. Especially since I've only been Commander for a few years, and I make some controversial decisions," he added wryly, nodding at Anders. "The First Warden and the other Commanders aren't exactly my biggest fans. But I can't see what a Warden base would have to do with the Carta, in any case. Wardens don't usually work with outsiders, unless there's a Blight."

"And I can't see the Carta working with Wardens, either," Varric agreed. "That would be too noble of a cause for them."

"Still, that seems like an odd coincidence," Anders said thoughtfully. "That there might be a Warden base in the same location."

Mardin nodded at him. "I agree. Anyway, if they have some sort of base they're working out of, that means there are more of them. And if there are more of them . . . "

"Then they'll probably attack me and Carver again," Brianna finished. "Unless we go to them first and find out why they're after our blood."

"Yes, we certainly can't let them have your blood," Merrill said determinedly from her place next to Carver, who still had an arm around her, though his face was red. "You're using it, after all."

Brianna grinned at her, and Mardin bit back a laugh as Brianna agreed gravely, "Indeed we are."

"So, trip to the Vimmark Mountains, then, Hawke?" Varric asked.

Brianna nodded. "I think so. I certainly don't want to wait around here for them to attack me again. Will everyone come with me?" She looked to each of their friends in turn as they nodded, stopping at Anders. "Normally I wouldn't ask you to be away from the clinic for so long, but it's a long trip, and I don't know what we'll find. We might need your healing skills, especially as mine aren't where I'd like them to be," she finished softly, and Mardin frowned, knowing that she was still disappointed in herself for not being able to heal his wound fully.

"Of course, Hawke," Anders said softly, though he did dart a quick and uncomfortable glance to his former Commander. "I still owe you for your help with Karl, so if you need me, I'll come along."

"I'm coming too," Carver added, "since it's my blood they're after. If I can, that is." He looked quickly to Alistair, too, as if just remembering that he was no longer free to do whatever he liked.

"Of course you can. We did come here to investigate why you were attacked, after all," Alistair said. "And I'm coming, too. If there's even a chance this has something to do with a Warden base or darkspawn, you might need my help." He hesitated, glancing down at Ayla, and Mardin guessed what he was about to say.

So, too, did Ayla, it would appear, for she interrupted him even as he opened his mouth. "Oh, no you don't! I am _not_ staying behind in Kirkwall. Did we not just discuss last night how pointless my staying behind would be if you're still in danger?"

Alistair flinched, frowning, and Mardin felt a sudden and unwelcome sympathy for the man, knowing that he was thinking of the bond and what would happen to Ayla if he should die in the mountains. Still, he shook his head, protesting, "But, you're –"

"I don't care," Ayla cut him off. "I'm coming too. Besides, Mardy will be there to help protect me. Right?"

Mardin sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He was no more enthusiastic about bringing his little sister along, knowing that she was pregnant, than her mate was, but at the same time, he felt he'd rather have her where he could watch out for her safety personally. And _he_ certainly wasn't staying behind. Besides, as she pointed out, it could be entirely pointless to have her stay behind in any case, if something happened to her mate. "Fine, I'll watch out for you. But if you're coming along, it's daggers only. Ranged fighting, no front-line. Not in your condition. Got it?" he ordered her.

Anders glanced sharply at Ayla at the word "condition" but he didn't say anything about it, and neither did Mardin explain it. If Ayla wanted the room at large to know, she'd tell them. She was beaming at him, nodding in acceptance of his terms, while Alistair was frowning, but he sighed, shaking his head as if he knew it was futile to keep arguing with her. "Fine," Alistair said at last. "I'll agree to it, if you follow those conditions. Keep behind me or your brother, and don't be reckless. Please, love?"

"I promise," she told him sincerely, looking up at him. "I'll stay back, like when we fought the werewolves. But I'm not staying here."

"All right then," Brianna said, clapping her hands together. "It's settled. Everyone's coming. We'll leave for the Vimmark Mountains in the morning, and you're all free to do as you like until then, so long as you're ready to go. We'll meet at the front gates an hour after dawn – if that's all right?" she asked Alistair.

He nodded. "That's fine. We'll be ready to go."

Everyone began to disperse after that, Carver declaring he'd walk Merrill home, Anders saying he had to go back to the clinic, Fenris heading for the study, and Brianna pulling Varric aside to discuss gathering supplies. Mardin crossed over to his sister and her mate. "Why don't you stay here for the day, Ayles?" he asked softly. "I'd like to talk with you more, hear what you've been up to while you were gone."

"Of course, Mardy, we'd love to." Ayla steered Alistair over to the table, sitting them both down, and grinned up at Mardin. "I don't suppose you have anything to eat?"

"Not a whole lot," Mardin admitted, though they'd been keeping the pantry at least slightly better stocked recently, "but I'm sure I could scrounge something up for you."

Once he'd gathered them some food, he sat down at the table with them and spent the rest of the day catching up with his sister and her mate, a pastime in which a curious Brianna and Varric eventually joined them. As he spent the first full day in over three years with his sister, relaxed and enjoying himself in a way he had not been able to for far too long, Mardin silently prayed to the Goddess that he could keep both her and Brianna – and everyone else – safe on this trip into the mountains, no matter what it might entail, for he realized that he wanted many more days like this one - and no dark nights alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Internet cookies to whoever finds the Easter egg I slipped into the dialogue ;).


	17. The Blood of the Hawke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brianna and the others arrive at the Carta's hideout in the Vimmark Mountains, and work to discover the reason why the dwarves are after Brianna and Carver's blood - and just who this Corypheus is.

Chapter 17: The Blood of the Hawke

They had been travelling for about a week and a half now, and had stopped to rest for the night before they would finally arrive at the spot in the mountains where the dwarves were hiding out. According to Varric, they should find it sometime the next day, which Brianna was relieved to hear. It had been a long week and a half, due both to the hard pace of their travel and the fact that Fenris and Anders seemed to find something to argue about every single day, causing her to have to play peacemaker each time. It was never enjoyable, especially since they tried to draw her into the middle each time and get her to agree with one of them, which she refused to do. Fortunately, Mardin always tried to help as well, usually by dragging Fenris off for a sparring match. And other than that, everyone else seemed to get along quite well; Mardin's sister Ayla and her husband Alistair fit into the group with surprising ease, particularly as Alistair seemed to have no interest in disturbing her command of the group, other than to offer the occasional bit of advice, which was usually quite helpful.

And, of course, Brianna thought wryly, Varric had been overjoyed that the two of them were coming along, which gave him endless opportunities to pester Alistair for tales of the Blight. Eventually, Alistair had given in and promised to give him the whole story, which had led to the two of them sitting together for a couple of hours each night after they made camp, while Varric scribbled down everything Alistair told him in one of his ever-present notebooks, only interrupting on occasion to ask a question or two. Ayla would eventually join them after she'd spent time with either Mardin or Anders, whom Alistair had studiously been avoiding, and would occasionally chime in with some detail or another. Half the time, these details would cause her husband to turn a bright red and Varric to roar with laughter; Brianna had never been close enough to catch just what those details were, however, as Varric insisted on conducting his business far enough away that "no one could interrupt his process". She could guess, though, given that it hadn't taken her long after meeting Ayla to understand that even if she didn't look much like Mardin, besides the matching red hair, the two certainly acted a lot alike.

It wasn't just that they shared a forward nature when it came to sex, although that was certainly true; it was also that they were both, at least on the surface, possessed of an easygoing nature and a teasing sense of humour, as well as a fierce loyalty and protective instinct to those they cared about. And they also seemed to move with a predatory grace and utter confidence that led Brianna to wonder if all shifters were like that, or just the two of them. She knew that they'd essentially been raised on the battlefield, as Mardin had told her, and she wondered if that had something to do with the way they moved and the way they fought. Either way, she couldn't help but be amused sometimes at how alike they were, especially when she and Carver were so different in personality, nor could she help being a little jealous of how well they got along compared to her and Carver. Although, her relationship with Carver had been improving of late, and though she'd had little time to spend with him on this trip so far, as he always seemed to be with Merrill or one of the others, he had not been at all resentful of her in the little time she had spent with him, the way he used to be before Mardin had begun training him and before the expedition.

"Hey Bree, shouldn't you be asleep?" Carver asked, suddenly appearing at her side as she sat on a log, staring into the low-burning flames. "You're not on watch, are you?"

Brianna shook her head. "No, I'm not." Currently Fenris and Varric were the ones on watch, and it was late enough at night that everyone else was sleeping. They'd decided with how many people were in their camp that it would be best to have two on watch at all times, just to be on the safe side, and had tried to divide it up so that those with heightened senses, such as Ayla or Mardin, who could both see in the dark, weren't on watch at the same time, and so far it had been working out quite well. "I'm not on watch tonight at all, actually. I just couldn't sleep. I was trying to think of what reason those dwarves could possibly have to want our blood, and what we'd be finding tomorrow. Why aren't you sleeping?"

Carver shrugged as he sank down on the log next to her. "Couldn't sleep either." Brianna turned to look at him, raising her eyebrows, and he finally elaborated, "Had a bad dream. No big deal."

Brianna frowned. She'd noticed Carver wandering around a few times at night during her watches. Was it always due to bad dreams? "Are the bad dreams because of being tainted? Because of what happened down in the Deep Roads?"

Carver looked into the fire, refusing to meet her eyes as he replied, "I suppose that has a little bit to do with it. I'd really rather not talk about it, though."

She nodded, appreciating his need for privacy. "You can, though. Talk to me about it sometime, that is. And . . . I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" He looked at her in surprise. "For what?"

"For what?" she repeated, dumbfounded. "For everything! The expedition, being down in the Deep Roads, you getting tainted and becoming a Grey Warden – it's all my fault!"

"No, it's not," he insisted, this time meeting her eyes squarely, and she could tell that he really believed that as he went on, "I made the choice to come on the expedition. Maker, Bree, I begged to come on the expedition, and unlike Mother, you let me make that choice for myself. And it's not your responsibility to look after me anymore. I'm old enough to look after myself, and I'm the one that got tainted, that wasn't fast enough. And you let me decide for myself if I wanted to become a Grey Warden or not. All of that was my own decision, and none of it was your fault."

"You really think so?" _Because Mother doesn't._ She didn't bother to say that out loud, though. Mother had apologized for what she'd said, after all, but somehow Brianna couldn't shake the feeling that deep down, her mother still completely believed she was at fault for what had happened to both Carver and Bethany. But if Carver, at least, didn't blame her for what happened, maybe she could stop blaming herself.

Carver nodded firmly. "I really do. Besides, it's not all bad. I've always wanted to do something for myself, something where I could be recognized on my own merit, not just as Hawke's little brother or Junior. I just didn't know what I was going to do, but I think being a Warden can give me that chance that I was hoping for, to earn something for myself. And like Anders says, all the Wardens I've met so far seem to be really good people. I like the Commander, and Mardin's sister."

She'd known that Carver felt stifled by being her younger brother, but she hadn't realized just how much. Maybe it would be good for him to get away and figure out who he was on his own merit. And she had to admit, from what time she'd managed to spend with Alistair and Ayla so far, they did seem like the type of people she could trust to do their best to look after her little brother. She smiled at Carver. "I like them too. But . . . what about Merrill?"

Carver sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I asked her if she might be able to come with me eventually," he confessed after a moment. "Back to Ferelden, that is. She said she couldn't, at least not yet. She has something she has to do for her clan, but she wouldn't tell me what it is. So . . . I'll just have to visit her, and you and Mother, whenever I get the chance, and write letters. The Commander says he tries to give us leave whenever he can manage it, so I'll come back to visit as much as I can. And maybe one day, if things work out, Merrill will come to join me. Do you think you can keep an eye on her until then, maybe find out what it is she's doing and help her with it?"

"I'll do my best," Brianna promised. She wasn't entirely sure that whatever Merrill was working on might be safe, but if it wasn't, maybe she could talk her out of it. Besides, if there was something she could do for Carver, however minimal, to make him happy, she still wanted to do it, particularly if it meant she could help out one of her friends along the way. She bumped Carver's shoulder with hers, giving him a teasing look. "Does that mean things are getting pretty serious with you two?"

Carver rubbed at his nose as his face slowly turned red. "I guess they are, maybe. Serious enough that I want to see her as much as I can, anyway. What about you and Mardin?"

"What about us?" Brianna asked innocently, even as she could feel herself starting to turn red. She knew that everyone had to know she and Mardin were sleeping together by this point, especially after she'd told the story of how the dwarves had attacked them, and she'd tried to tell herself she didn't care about what everyone thought. Still, it was one thing to have her friends know and another to have them see what was going on, especially when her brother and Mardin's sister were travelling with them, so she'd insisted Mardin keep his distance while they were travelling to the mountains. It had been harder than she'd expected to keep her own rules, however, particularly when she was enjoying herself with Mardin more than she'd ever thought she would, but she still thought they'd managed to be pretty discreet on the trip so far.

Carver rolled his eyes, bumping her shoulder in turn. "Come on, Bree, we all heard the story about how you two were in bed together when the dwarves attacked you. And I can see the way he looks at you, and the way you look at him. I don't know why you're trying to hide it; it's pretty obvious. I'm just asking if it's serious."

"Honestly?" Brianna said with a shrug. "I don't know yet. I'm still figuring it out." Which was true enough; she had no idea yet if she even wanted anything serious with him. She had just decided she wanted to do something for herself for once, and damn the consequences. She'd also come to understand Mardin well enough recently, particularly after he'd told her about his parents, to realize that whether he would admit it or not, he was terrified of serious relationships, and so there was no point in her pushing him on that score until she knew what she wanted. For now, it was enough just to enjoy herself with him; if there ever came a time when she decided that she wanted more, she would press the issue then. "When I do, I'll let you know. Or does my little brother not approve?" she teased him.

He made a face at her. "I'm not little anymore."

"Younger, then. You'll always be that." She poked him, and he rolled his eyes. "But you still didn't answer my question."

"What, if I approve?" Carver asked in surprise, and she nodded. "Well, sure. I like Mardin. He's a good guy, and I know he'll be able to protect you now that I'm not around to do it. Do you approve of Merrill?"

It took Brianna a second to register his question, as she was still shocked at the realization that Carver felt he had to protect _her._ She'd never realized he felt an equal responsibility towards her as she did him. As soon as she realized what he'd asked, though, she nodded. "Merrill's a sweetheart, and she's been good for you." _I just hope her being a blood mage doesn't lead her somewhere that no one can follow._ "I really hope it works out for the two of you. But you should get some sleep. We don't know what's going to happen tomorrow."

"If I'm going to sleep, you should too," Carver pointed out, though he was already standing up from the log.

"You're right," Brianna agreed, standing up herself. "I'll give it another try." Somehow, she thought she might be more successful now; talking to Carver had made her feel surprisingly better, especially since she realized that he seemed to be doing okay and was relatively happy with how things had turned out. After wishing each other good night and heading to bed, she found out she was right when she drifted off to sleep with little issue, sleeping the best she had on their trip so far.

* * *

 

"There it is at last," Varric announced.

They were standing on top of a ridge in the desolate, rocky countryside of the Vimmark Mountains, which only seemed to be populated by sand, scraggly plants, and more rocks and hills than one could possibly count. The ridge they were standing on allowed them to see a few miles into the distance, though Brianna had to shield her eyes against the blazing hot sun that was beating down on them out of a cloudless blue sky in order to see what looked like a stone fortress with numerous pillars built into the side of one of the mountains.

Carver frowned, squinting down at the fortress too. "It doesn't look all that dwarven."

Varric shrugged. "These are Carta dwarves, so they're more criminals and smugglers than anything else. They're not usually stupid, though. I don't know why they'd attack someone with Hawke's reputation, or charge at someone like Red. Or attack a bunch of Wardens, for that matter. All three are pretty fast ways to die, if you ask me."

Mardin was frowning, as he always did when the attack was brought up, Brianna had noticed, but he shook his head. "They weren't thinking at all, as far as I can tell. They seemed pretty crazed."

Carver nodded. "They seemed like they were really only interested in my blood. They didn't seem to care how many of them got taken down by the other Wardens on their way to get to me."

Brianna shrugged. "I'm just glad they failed, and I want to make sure it stays that way."

"You have a plan, then?" Varric asked. "I found their hideout, but my sources couldn't tell me anything else. Not why they were attacking you and Junior, or why so many Carta members up and disappeared. It's all very . . . strange."

"Why do you say that?" Brianna demanded, though she couldn't help feeling an uncomfortable twinge down her spine. "It's just the Carta, isn't it?"

Varric shook his head. "As far as my contacts in the Carta know, they shouldn't be here. There shouldn't even be a here. This place is invisible. A big blind spot on the map. Bianca's never been this suspicious, and she's twitchy to start with."

"You say this place isn't even on the map?" Alistair turned from where he'd been surveying the fortress in the distance, and when Varric nodded, he sighed. "I was afraid of that."

"You think this is that Warden base you've heard rumours of?" Ayla supplied, and Alistair nodded.

"It would be just like the Wardens to ensure it was a blind spot on the map. They've always liked their secrets," Alistair admitted.

Anders shook his head. "It doesn't make any sense, though. Why would the Carta help the Wardens? Or vice versa?"

"We will not find the answers to any of those questions here," Fenris said. "We must simply go there and find out why they are attacking Hawke and her brother."

"Broody's got a point. So what's the plan?" Varric asked.

"I guess we just start by going down there and seeing if there's anyone not crazy we can talk to," Brianna replied with a shrug. "So let's go."

She led everyone down the ridge, towards the fortress in the distance, and eventually they reached an old stone bridge, covered with debris and damaged, burning wagons, among which were piled the bodies of recently dead merchants.

"The Carta doesn't kill guild members, either," Varric muttered as they picked their way around the destruction. "This is all very unusual."

They followed the bridge to a footpath that wound between the rocks on either side, and they hadn't gone very far before Brianna picked up the sound of someone shouting. She couldn't make out the words, but she could tell from the way that Ayla lifted her head that she could. She cast a questioning glance in her direction, but Ayla merely shook her head in response. "Let's just put it this way – I don't think you're going to find anyone not crazy to talk to."

"Is it the Carta?" Carver asked, looking around at the rocks as they went.

"I think so," Ayla replied.

Anders looked up at the rocks above them too, as though expecting the dwarves to suddenly appear around them. "Do you think they were expecting us?"

"Hard to say," Varric answered. "If it was the normal Carta, I'd say yes, but these guys?" He shrugged.

The path eventually brought them to a set of stairs leading up to what appeared to be a long hallway, with stone pillars on either side. A dwarf with dark hair and a beard stood at the other end, wearing studded leather armor. Like the other dwarves that had attacked her, Brianna noticed that this one had wild eyes that lit up when he spotted their group. "You! The brother and sister both! You're here together! You've come!"

"Is . . . he referring to you and me?" Carver whispered to Brianna as he came up next to her.

"I imagine so," she murmured back. "We're not the only brother and sister here, but we are the only Hawkes."

"Everyone!" the dwarf cried before the others could even comment. "It's the children of Malcolm Hawke! They've come to us!"

Two more dwarves came to join him as Brianna frowned. "What does our father have to do with this?"

"It began with him and ends with you!" the dwarf shouted, his eyes gleaming. "Blood for blood, that's what we were told!"

"Oh, that can't be good," Alistair muttered behind them.

"I didn't think dwarves knew how to do blood magic," Merrill added. "Who do you suppose taught them?"

"Dwarves can't do magic at all, Daisy," Varric said, his eyes narrowed as he watched the other dwarves. "So this continues to make no sense."

"You can't?" Merrill exclaimed. "Oh, that's so sad!"

Carver, meanwhile, was looking at Brianna with an expression of confusion equal to her own. "Did . . . Father cross the Carta, somehow?"

"I don't know," she said helplessly. "I didn't even know he knew any Carta dwarves."

"You've come to us now, and that's the only thing that matters!" the lead dwarf cried.

"Look," Brianna said in exasperation, although she was coming to suspect that asking questions was completely futile, "we only came here to find out why the Carta has attacked us."

"For the blood!" The dwarf threw up his hands. "We must have it!"

"Well, you're not getting any of my blood," Brianna retorted, "or Carver's, for that matter."

Mardin was suddenly there at her side, drawing his sword and shield. "Stay behind me," he muttered to her, his eyes already starting to blaze with anger, and she realized why as she noticed that more dwarves were joining the first three, drawing weapons and readying bows.

"We will take it!" the lead dwarf shouted again, hefting a sword as Brianna began to ready a spell. "Corypheus will walk in the sun once more!"

Well over a dozen dwarves streamed towards them, swords and axes out as other dwarves fired arrows at them. Mardin raced forward to meet the dwarves, along with Fenris, Carver, and Alistair. Ayla, though she looked less than pleased about it, limited herself to staying farther back, throwing daggers and only engaging the dwarves if they got past the other four. Varric stayed with her, firing bolts and flinging smoke bombs at the dwarves, while Brianna stayed back with Anders and Merrill, alternating between support spells for the fighters and offensive spells aimed at the dwarves. It didn't take long before they'd defeated the crazed Carta dwarves, fortunately with only minimal injuries to their party, nothing that she or Anders couldn't take care of.

"Who is Corypheus?" Brianna demanded when the fight was done, but the others shook their heads, seeming to be as confused by the name invoked as she was.

"There is a gate here," Fenris said from up ahead, gesturing to a poorly constructed wooden gate strung between two old pillars. "I would suggest we venture further in and find out."

Brianna nodded, and followed Fenris, Mardin and the others through the gate into a type of courtyard with several wooden walkways around, where they were attacked by more Carta members clamouring for Hawke blood and even a bronto, which Mardin met head on in bear form while the others attacked from a distance. Though Mardin was a good deal more injured this time, it still wasn't beyond Anders' ability to heal, fortunately, and Ayla scolded him enough that Brianna decided she didn't need to – not right now, anyway.

"Did you hear them?" Carver exclaimed once everyone had been healed. "They're definitely after us for our blood . . . but why?!"

"That's an excellent question," Brianna said, "but I don't know the answer, other than it has something to do with someone named Corypheus. Maybe there are answers around this place somewhere. What do you guys think?"

She glanced at Ayla and Mardin, remembering that they were both possessed of instincts that she and the others were not. Mardin sighed. "Well, we didn't really want to say anything, but . . ." He glanced at his sister.

"You've been down in the Deep Roads now, right?" she asked him in turn, and Mardin nodded. "And this is . . ."

"Worse," Mardin finished for her. "It feels twice as dangerous here as it did in the Deep Roads, and the further we go in, the more it feels like the worst kind of trap. But, we do need to find out what's going on, and I don't know why it feels this way. I can't really . . ."

"Pinpoint anything," Ayla supplied for him. "It's just the whole place, and every dwarf we meet feels . . . _wrong_ somehow. It's making me feel pretty twitchy."

"Worse?" Anders echoed in disbelief. "How can any place be worse than the Deep Roads?"

"Maybe it has something to do with this Corypheus guy?" Carver suggested.

"Maybe he's the one doing the blood magic!" Merrill added. "I mean, if dwarves can't do magic, somebody must be able to if they want your blood, right?"

"Mardin's right," Alistair said, which caused Mardin – and really everybody else – to look at him in shock. "Even if whatever's going on here is more dangerous than the Deep Roads, we need to find out what it is, and why the dwarves are acting like this. Especially if it's got anything to do with this possibly being a Warden base."

Brianna nodded, agreeing with him fully. "I'm not about to leave without finding out why these dwarves want my blood, and my brother's. Otherwise they'll just keep coming after us. But if anyone wants to back out, and wait for me to come back, I wouldn't blame you."

She couldn't deny being relieved when everyone refused her offer, however, and pledged to continue on to find out what was happening. She took the lead again, though Mardin stuck close to her side, and the others ranged themselves in a line behind her as they headed through another gate into a long tunnel built out of wooden walls. This eventually led them to an even older section of stone fortress built into a chasm, where they had to fight their way through several more Carta members and brontos. They came out onto another opening on the side of the mountain, able to see another immense fortress in the distance, similar to a tower with carved statues along the side that stretched both far above them into the sky and far down into the chasm below them. They searched through rooms along the flagged road leading to the fortress, fighting off more Carta members, all of whom acted in the same insane fashion and seemed to have no information to offer beyond Corypheus and the fact that they wanted blood.

Eventually, they found their way to a door that led into the side of the tower-like fortress, which opened into an interior made of wood and stone, covered in dirt. Boxes and barrels were piled everywhere, along with several scattered bits of paper. All they could glean from the papers, however, was that the dwarves had instructions to kill everyone but Brianna and Carver when they found them, and keep their blood "pure for Corypheus", whatever that meant. Brianna was starting to believe, however, that Merrill's theory about Corypheus being a blood mage wasn't far off the mark.

Finally, in one of the rooms, a brown-haired dwarf came running up to them, seeming to be more coherent than the last batch they'd run across as he cried, "The Hawke's blood! The Master will rise! He will be free!"

"Gerav?" Varric said in shock as he came up next to Brianna, clutching Bianca like she was a lifeline.

The dwarf, Gerav, blinked in surprise, comprehension slowly breaking through the madness in his eyes. "Varric? N-no one told me you would be part of this. We were just going after the Hawke."

Brianna glanced briefly at Varric, worried, but she did need answers, and this dwarf seemed more capable of providing them than the others. "Why are you coming after me and my brother?" she demanded.

Gerav shook his head frantically. "I c-can't say. The Master must be free . . ."

"Really, Gerav? I thought better of you than this," Varric said, his voice heavy with disappointment. "I mean, gutting the occasional competitor for fun and profit, that's the game. But what are you all even doing here? Worshipping demons?"

"We drink the darkspawn blood," Gerav whispered, his eyes glowing with a fresh madness as he seemed to look up at something no one could see. "He calls us . . ."

"You're drinking the darkspawn blood?" Alistair exclaimed from behind Brianna. "Maker . . . that's why they're all so . . ."

"They're like Ruck, aren't they?" Ayla asked, her voice tinged with shock.

Brianna frowned, turning to look at Alistair. "Wouldn't they just die if they drank darkspawn blood?"

He shook his head, frowning. "Not necessarily. Some survive . . . well, if you can call that surviving." He nodded at Gerav. "But it will taint you, twist you into something similar to a darkspawn."

"It's the only way . . . to hear the music," Gerav said dreamily, his head wobbling back and forth.

"Maker," Alistair said softly, blanching.

"Commander, does he mean what I think he does?" Anders hissed.

Before Brianna could demand to know what they were talking about, Varric cried, "Oh come on, you nug-licker! Snap out of it. There's no gold in hallucinating."

Worry about the despair in Varric's voice temporarily distracted Brianna from any other questions she might have as she looked down at her friend in concern. "I take it he's a friend of yours, Varric?"

Varric nodded, never taking his eyes off the other dwarf, or his hands off Bianca. "Hawke, this is Gerav. He's a greedy, brilliant, bastard son-of-a-nug from the Carta. Gerav, this is Hawke, the one whose blood you want to drink or bathe in or whatever. But I got to warn you, you catch diseases that way."

"The Master is calling. He needs the blood," Gerav replied simply, and whatever temporary sanity had been in his eyes seemed to be long gone now.

"Gerav . . . buddy . . ." Varric pleaded, and Brianna squeezed his shoulder, not knowing what else to do as her friend continued, "This isn't like you. Look. I've still got Bianca, never misfired a day in her life. You don't want her to see her papa like this, do you?"

"Your friend is gone," Alistair said quietly, echoing Brianna's earlier thoughts. "I'm sorry."

"That's not him anymore," Ayla added softly.

"Varric?" Brianna squeezed his shoulder again, not knowing what to do other than offer her friend an out. "You want to spare his life?"

Varric shook his head slowly, still not looking up at her. "Not if he's after you, Hawke." He lifted Bianca up, carefully aiming at Gerav. "Bianca, I think it's time to say goodbye."

Brianna readied her staff, but before either of them could do anything, Gerav disappeared in a sudden puff of smoke, re-appearing a moment later several feet back, as several more Carta dwarves rushed to his aid from a door located behind him. Gerav pulled out two daggers, twirling them in his hands, his eyes gleaming once more with frantic madness as he advanced towards Varric.

"Reinforcements! You bastard!" Varric growled, firing Bianca anyway, but one of the other dwarves intervened, bringing a shield up between Gerav and the bolt.

Brianna dropped an explosive fire spell in the midst of the clustered dwarves, blasting them apart. Mardin, Carver, and the others raced forward following her spell, moving to take down any dwarves that were left behind, while she worked with Ayla, Varric, and the other mages to try to take down the few archers that had appeared. In the end, it was Carver that dealt the finishing blow to Gerav, just as the battle with the other Carta members was finishing up. Brianna stowed her staff away on her back, coming to join Varric as he moved to his former friend's body.

"You poor stupid bastard . . ." Varric muttered, slinging Bianca onto his back as he knelt down. "I used to do business with the Carta, back in the day. Gerav was a nutcase then, too, but in a good way. He was trying to design a new type of repeating crossbow." He tapped the crossbow on his back. "Bianca was the only one that ever worked. I can't believe he ended up like that."

"I'm so sorry, Varric." Brianna squeezed his shoulder again, feeling that the words were terribly inadequate, but not having the slightest idea what else to say to him.

Merrill rushed forward, too, leaning down to hug Varric. "I'm very sorry about your friend, Varric. Is there anything I can do?"

Varric only very briefly returned the hug before pulling away, clearing his throat. "No, Daisy, don't you worry about it. Come on, we've got some crazy Master to find, don't we?" He walked away, heading towards the door that Gerav's reinforcements had come out of, Merrill trailing along at a discreet distance behind him.

"Speaking of that, perhaps there is some knowledge that you Wardens might wish to share with the rest of us?" Fenris asked evenly, looking at Alistair and Anders. "You seemed to understand some of that dwarf's ramblings."

Alistair sighed, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, exchanging a glance first with Ayla, then with Anders. Carver, Brianna noted, just looked confused, so she assumed it was something he was not yet privy to as a brand-new Warden. "Well, yes and no," Alistair hedged. "Some of what he was saying shouldn't be possible right now, but I can't really say anything about it. They're Warden secrets, and it's a whole 'pain of death' sort of thing. But telling you wouldn't help you understand anything anyway, because none of it really makes sense. All it means is that Corypheus might be really dangerous, and we already knew that. And that they're taking their cues from him, through the darkspawn blood they're drinking."

"So does that mean he's some kind of darkspawn?" Mardin demanded.

Alistair shrugged helplessly. "Honestly? I don't know. As I said, it shouldn't be possible. Well, I suppose this much I can tell you – archdemons can control darkspawn, and those that drink darkspawn blood – some call them ghouls. It's how they organize in times of Blight, and why they're more difficult to fight then. But the archdemons are supposedly the souls of the Old Gods, and of the ones that are left, that the Wardens haven't fought against, none are named Corypheus. So it shouldn't be possible for anyone or anything other than an archdemon to control these people."

"There aren't other types of darkspawn that can do it?" Brianna asked. "Or say a blood mage, like Merrill suggested?"

Alistair shook his head. "Not that I've ever heard of. Other darkspawn, generals and such, might issue orders, but they come from the archdemon, and it's not through the blood like that. As for a blood mage? Maker, I hope not. Again, it's not something I've ever heard of, but maybe it's possible, if any mage is crazy enough to try it with darkspawn blood."

"I have heard a few of them say things about setting Corypheus free," Ayla offered, coming to stand next to Alistair, slipping her arm through his. "Maybe he's some kind of ancient darkspawn type that's locked up down here, and that's why you've never heard of him?"

"That would make sense," Anders agreed. "But really, did no one at Weisshaupt ever tell you about this place or what it was for?"

"Never," Alistair replied. "Like I said, they don't give me a lot of the more classified information, or at least they haven't yet. Duncan might have known – he was the previous Commander," he explained to Brianna, who nodded, "but he never got around to telling me everything he knew before he was killed during the Blight. I was only with him six months before he died, and I found out there were a lot of things he didn't get around to telling me. Some of them pretty important." His face darkened at this, and he pulled Ayla a bit closer to his side, making Brianna wonder just what his former Commander had never told him, though she suspected he wouldn't tell her if she asked.

"Well, thank you for telling us what you could," Brianna said instead, nodding formally to him. She appreciated the fact that sometimes secrets had to be kept. "But you're right, we don't know a lot more than we did before. The only way to find out who or what Corypheus is and how he's controlling these dwarves is to keep going. I don't think they'll stop coming after Carver and I until Corypheus is gone, by the sounds of it, so let's go find him, wherever he is."

The others nodded in agreement, and followed Brianna as she hurried to catch up to Varric and Merrill, who'd both gone through the door on the opposite side of the room. The door led to more passageways through the stone fortress, that eventually led them to an iron gate that opened into a large, cavernous room with walkways around the walls above. Another dark-haired dwarf was waiting for them inside the room, standing by a large bronto, as they trooped their way through the door. This one wore heavy, plated armor, and had a large and unusual axe strapped to his back.

"Hawke," the dwarf said as Brianna stopped across the room from him, giving her a mocking bow. "I am Rhatigan. They told me you might be trouble, but at least you were generous enough to bring your brother with you. It doesn't matter which one of you it is, I swore to Corypheus we'd bring him Malcolm Hawke's blood. One way or the other . . ."

"What does this have to do with our father?" Brianna snapped, getting exasperated that none of these dwarves were able to tell her just why her father's blood was important. What in the Maker's name could her father and his blood have to do with this Corypheus character, especially if he was some type of ancient darkspawn?

Rhatigan shrugged carelessly. "The Master wants you. I don't ask why."

"But your Master is Corypheus, right? He's the one who's after us?" Brianna demanded.

Rhatigan nodded. "What Corypheus wants, Corypheus gets. From us, or from someone."

Brianna pulled her staff off her back, completely done with the lack of answers. "Well, he's not getting my blood, or my brother's."

"Not if we have anything to say about it," Mardin agreed as he and Carver came in front of her, drawing their swords.

"Corypheus, we have done as you commanded!" Rhatigan shouted, holding up his arms and ignoring them as the other members of their party armed themselves. "Your sacrifice is here. You will see the surface once more!" He pulled out the huge, double-bladed axe as the bronto reared, and several more dwarves appeared up on the walkways and through the door behind him as the bronto charged forward.

Merrill shot a spike of stone up in front of the bronto, halting its charge, as Brianna and Anders took aim at the dwarven archers on the walkway above with chain lightning spells, Varric picking off any that they didn't get. Carver was fighting with Rhatigan, while Alistair and Fenris had taken on the other armed dwarves beyond him, with Ayla providing back-up. Brianna darted a quick glance around for Mardin, but heard a sudden roar that rattled the ground around them, before she spotted the large bear running towards the bronto.

"Merrill, help him!" she shouted as she aimed another blast of lightning at the walkway above to finish the archers left up there. "He can't take on that huge bronto himself! I'll help Carver!"

"Of course, Hawke!" Merrill called back, and soon spikes of rock and tree roots were attacking the bronto along with the bear. Fortunately, Merrill had become much better at fighting with a group recently, and so far appeared able to avoid Mardin as she struck the bronto.

Brianna switched her attention to Carver, using support spells and healing spells to keep him up and fighting Rhatigan, who appeared to be very skilled, while Anders used his healing magic on the other fighters. Carver, however, was faster – and stronger – than Brianna remembered him being, and a few moments later, was able to slip past Rhatigan's guard and run him through with his greatsword.

As soon as she knew Carver was safe, as most of the dwarves had been taken care of by now, Brianna whirled around to see if Mardin was okay. She found the bronto lying in a bloody heap on the ground several yards away, covered in bite wounds, slash marks, and other wounds, although the finishing touch seemed to be a combination of a stone spike through its chest and a shredded neck. Mardin was kneeling on the ground a few feet away, back to his human form, panting and clearly exhausted, with one hand clutched to his stomach.

Brianna raced over, fear bubbling through her, and knelt next to Mardin, noting how pale he looked and how much blood was dripping between his fingers. She cursed herself for not having learned rejuvenation magic from Anders yet as panic swirled through her. She laid a hand over the wound, starting a regular healing spell, even as she shouted for Anders. "How bad is it. Mardin? What happened?!"

"I'll be fine, don't worry," he managed, though he sounded rather breathless. "It just . . . ah, gored me a little towards the end with one of its horns. Everybody else okay?"

"Gored you?!" Brianna shrieked, resisting the urge to whack him with her other hand as anger joined the other emotions rushing through her. "A little?! Are you insane?!"

"Probably," Mardin allowed, smiling down at her, though his face was still drawn and pale. "Honestly, it's no big deal. It's not the first time something like this has happened."

"And to answer both of your questions," Ayla said, standing over Mardin with her hands on her hips, "yes, he is insane, and everybody else is fine. And you know, I could have helped you with that if you'd just let me –"

"Absolutely not," Mardin and Alistair interrupted her in unison, the latter having just joined them along with Anders, who gently nudged Brianna out of the way, starting a combination of rejuvenation and healing magic on Mardin.

"You are not fighting any brontos right now, or we're leaving," Alistair added, scowling down at his wife, who sighed and rolled her eyes, muttering, "Fine," under her breath.

"And you shouldn't be shifting at all right now," Mardin told Ayla, glaring at her in turn. "You know how painful it is even when you're at full strength, let alone when you're not."

"Yes, yes, I get the point." Ayla threw up her hands in exasperation. "I just don't like seeing you get hurt when I could have prevented it."

"Or _you_ could have gotten hurt," Mardin pointed out. "And I will be fine, right, Anders?"

"Right," Anders agreed, though he cast a curious glance at Ayla. Brianna, too, couldn't help but wonder if her earlier theory as to why Mardin and Alistair were demanding the other woman hang back was correct. She certainly didn't look sick. "This is a wound I can fix. In fact, I'm almost done."

Brianna studied Mardin closely, noting that he did, indeed, look a lot better, his color vastly improved. She let out a small breath of relief before getting to her feet, deciding not to examine the tangle of emotions Mardin's wound had evoked in her as she did so. "Well, in that case, I'll go check this Rhatigan to see if he has any useful information on him while you finish up here."

Anders and Mardin nodded as she got up and headed back over to Rhatigan, noticing that Carver, Fenris, Varric and Merrill were already following their usual habit of checking through the room and various bodies for anything useful. They had left Rhatigan alone for the moment, though, and Brianna kicked over the dwarf's body as she reached it, frowning as she noticed the axe still clutched in one hand glowing with a blue light.

Whatever the light was, it seemed to call to her. Her whole body was burning with curiosity as she looked down at the weapon, and her hand was aching with the need to pick it up. Feeling almost as though she were in a dream, her head fuzzy, Brianna crouched down and pulled the axe out of the dwarf's hand.

The instant she did so, the light covering the weapon flared blindingly bright, seizing her whole body and flooding through it with unnatural warmth, making her go rigid. She could hear alarmed shouts and running footsteps, but no one seemed to be able to get near her as she felt power washing through her body, felt the weapon in her hand changing shape. "What is this?" she gasped. "I can feel it . . . inside me."

Even as she said it, the light and the flowing power abruptly stopped, leaving her holding a long staff rather than an axe. Though the staff was a bit longer than the one she normally wielded, it was surprisingly light, and ended in a shape rather like the forking of a branch, with an unusual red crystal in the center. She turned it over in her hands, studying it curiously, wondering why she wasn't more alarmed by it.

"Bree!" Carver exclaimed, and she glanced up at him where he stood a few feet away, staring at the staff in alarm. "What kind of enchantment could do that? Did . . . did Father make that?"

"Maybe . . . you should put that down," Mardin said slowly, and Brianna noticed that he was standing next to Carver, apparently fully healed now, along with all the others, who seemed to have gathered around when the weapon had lit up.

"But it's going to take me to Corypheus," Brianna argued, though she was uncertain exactly why she was so positive the staff was the key. She just knew it was.

"No, I think Mardin's right," Anders said, looking concerned. "You really should put it down. That kind of enchantment . . . it's not normal."

Brianna looked at everyone, frowning, but they were all nodding in agreement with Anders, looking very concerned, so she tried to open her hand, to let go of the staff, but she couldn't seem to do it. Her hand refused to open and release the staff. "Um . . . I don't mean to alarm anyone . . . but I can't put it down."

"What?" Mardin started forward. "I'll just take it away from you then –"

"No!" Anders interrupted, stepping between him and Brianna. "I don't think that's a good idea, actually. If the enchantment won't let her put it down, who knows what it'll do if you try to take it by force?"

"Well then, what do I do with it?" Brianna asked, though she still did not feel nearly as alarmed as she knew she should be.

"Well . . . you said it would take you to Corypheus, right?" Anders turned back to look at her, studying the staff again with a frown on his face. She nodded. "Then, I suppose we let it take us to Corypheus. Perhaps it's a key of some sort, and once it . . . opens the lock, so to speak, you'll be able to put it down."

"Yes, it's definitely a key," Brianna agreed, nodding emphatically, and the staff seemed to hum in agreement as well. "Let's do that."

"I don't know if I like this," Varric muttered. "Haven't we had our fill of creepy objects that glow?"

"It doesn't seem as though we have a choice, though," Carver said, frowning.

"Hawke!" Fenris called, and she turned to look, noticing he'd moved around a bit behind her and was pointing down the passageway beyond that they had yet to explore. "There are more dwarves down there, running ahead! Perhaps they have some answers!"

"Okay, let's go." Brianna moved to follow him, still carrying the staff in one hand, and she felt strangely sure that it was pleased, and that she was going in the right direction as she hurried forward into the passageway, following Fenris as he raced after the group of dwarves far ahead. She could hear the others following closely behind her as the dwarves disappeared around a corner far ahead of them. Brianna and Fenris had just about reached the corner themselves when Brianna heard an alarmed shout behind her.

She whirled around just in time to see a shimmering orange barrier appear across the passageway behind them, dropping into place just as Mardin and Ayla reached it. Mardin reached out a hand to touch it, and yanked his hand back with a cry as a zap of orange lightning shot across it.

"Those sons of bitches!" Varric snapped. "The whole blasted thing's sealed over."

"Not again!" Anders exclaimed, throwing his hands up.

"I'm sure there's another way out," Brianna reassured everyone, even as the staff was already pulling at her to keep moving. "There always is with dwarves, right?"

"There better be. We're not staying down here," Mardin growled, though he moved up to join Brianna as though realizing there was nothing else he could do right now.

"Don't worry, we won't have to," Brianna told him as he reached her, looking at all of the others to reassure them as well. "We just have to go find Corypheus, that's all. Let's keep moving, come on." And she kept going around the corner, far more concerned with the sudden drive to move forward to find Corypheus, than about the barrier blocking their way home.


	18. The Calling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brianna, Mardin, and the others continue to make their way through the strange fortress to find Corypheus, and along the way, discover more secrets about Brianna's father and the Wardens.

Chapter 18: The Calling

They had moved forward around the corner from where the barrier had appeared, and eventually the hallways had led them back out to a balcony on the side of the mountain. The balcony afforded a view of the chasm below, showing that the next tower of the fortress across from them descended far down into the chasm, so far that they couldn't see the bottom. They could, however, see figures shambling across the way on the balcony of the other tower.

Alistair sighed, darting a quick glance to Anders. "You can feel it, can't you?"

Anders nodded, looking equally exhausted – and exasperated, Brianna noticed. "Darkspawn," Anders agreed. "There are at least twenty of them over there. Far more down below, though I can't tell how many. Can you?"

Alistair shook his head as Ayla squeezed his arm, looking sympathetic. "There's far too many to get an exact count, at least from this distance. Probably a couple hundred, at least. Can you feel anything yet?" he asked Carver, who shook his head in reply.

"Not really," he admitted, looking confused. "I can feel something weird, though, like tingling along my spine."

"That's the presence of the darkspawn you're feeling," Alistair told him. "As time goes on, you'll be able to use it to tell how many of them there are – most of the time, anyway – and what kinds are there."

Brianna frowned at the Wardens, wondering what in the Maker's name they were talking about. "Mind sharing with the class?" she asked pointedly, seeing that a couple of the others looked curious as well, though Ayla and oddly, Varric, didn't. Fenris and Merrill didn't appear to be paying attention, instead looking across the chasm as if to make out what the figures were.

Anders looked to Alistair, who nodded, and the mage turned to Brianna. "Remember when I said I could sense where the other Wardens were, when we were looking to get help for Carver?" When Brianna nodded, wondering what that had to do with anything, Anders went on, "It's not just other Wardens. I can sense where the darkspawn are, too, and so can any other Warden. It's . . . an ability we gain after the Joining, one that helps us to know when darkspawn are about to appear, and how many of them there are, so we can hopefully avoid ambushes. It takes a little while to develop fully, so Carver won't be able to use it for some time yet."

Mardin was frowning, studying Alistair with suspicion before he finally said, "It sounds like a handy thing to have."

"It is," Anders agreed. "Rather like your instinct for danger. Although, like your instinct, it can become a bit of a problem in the Deep Roads, where there are so many darkspawn it can start to feel overwhelming. And this tower seems to lead to the Deep Roads."

"Oh good," Brianna said with a sigh, wondering when it was she'd developed such awful luck. "Because the Carta and this Corypheus weren't bad enough, now we have to go back into the darkspawn-infested Deep Roads again?"

Varric snorted with agreement. "With you on that one, Hawke. The other dwarves keep asking me why I prefer the surface." He pointed at the creatures across the way. "That's why."

Ayla laughed. "I don't blame you for that one."

"We should get moving." Brianna could feel the staff she still clutched tightly in one hand pulling at her, insisting she move forward. "We still have to find out who this Corypheus is and what he wants, though I am starting to believe the ancient darkspawn theory, especially if this place leads to the Deep Roads." She turned to Alistair as a sudden thought struck her. "If he is, can't you sense him?"

He nodded. "If he is, I would be able to. Right now, I don't feel any abnormal darkspawn, but that just might mean we're not close enough. Corypheus might be at the bottom of that tower."

"He probably is," Mardin grumbled. "Since that's the kind of luck we seem to have."

Brianna smiled at him in agreement, even as she started to move forward. "Let's go find out if he is, then. There might even be another way out down there."

"Let's hope so," Mardin muttered, but he fell in beside her willingly enough as she began to move forward, following the only path open to them, which led back inside the fortress, but in the general direction of the tower and the darkspawn.

Brianna made her way through the stone hallways, going the direction that the staff was pulling her in. Some of the rooms appeared to contain ancient cages, and the odd skeleton that had likely been locked up in them. Sand often lay in heaps around the rooms, and some of them had roots growing through the cracks in the stone above. Anders and Alistair called out a warning as she approached a small, closed door leading into another room, causing Mardin to gently push her aside and open the door himself.

Sure enough, as Brianna followed him through, Alistair right behind her, she spotted a darkspawn bent over a body, apparently tearing it apart to eat. Brianna grimaced in disgust at the sight, even as the darkspawn lifted its head, seeing Mardin right away. It roared, leaping to its feet and rushing forward towards them, numerous darkspawn streaming out of the doorway behind it. Mardin snarled at it in turn, drawing his sword and shield and moving to meet it.

Brianna began to ready a fire spell, even as she moved aside to make way for Alistair and the others to hurry through the door. Alistair, Fenris and Carver joined Mardin in fighting the darkspawn head on, while Ayla and Varric provided support from a little further back. Brianna lobbed fire and ice spells at the onrushing darkspawn, joined by Merrill's spikes of stone and twisting roots, while Anders cast healing and defensive spells on the fighters. There had to be at least fifteen, if not almost twenty, of the darkspawn that attacked them, but between all of their party members, they were able to defeat the darkspawn with only minor wounds, quickly and easily healed by Anders and herself.

Once the fight was over, Brianna noticed two large shields, one on each wall, with a griffon emblazoned on them. A flashing red gem shone in the middle of both shields. Further forward in the room, she spotted an orange barrier that appeared to have two more glowing red gems embedded in it. Curious, she drifted forwards towards the barrier, which appeared to be blocking off one of the ancient cages, only to have an eerily familiar voice boom out at her, echoing around the stone walls.

"Be bound here for eternity, hunger stilled, rage smothered, desire dampened, pride crushed. In the name of the Maker, so let it be."

It couldn't be the voice Brianna thought it was, could it? But she wanted, badly, to know if it was, and somehow she knew that removing the barrier would help her find out. The others in the room, though startled by the voice, had returned to checking the crates around the room for anything of use. Except for Carver, who was staring at the barrier the same way she was.

"Carver, you break that gem over there," she ordered, pointing at the shield to her right. "I'll get the one over here."

Carver blinked at her for a moment, and she could see his impulse to ask her why, but instead he shrugged and moved over to the shield, smashing the gem. One of the lights on the barrier winked out, and Brianna hurried over to the other shield, bringing the staff she bore down on its gem, causing the other light to wink out, and the barrier to disappear.

A shade appeared on the other side, larger than any Brianna had seen before, and suddenly the room itself was filled with numerous other shades. Her friends cried out in surprise, moving instantly to try to attack the shades, though weapons were largely ineffective. She began casting ice at all of the shades, Anders and Merrill helping her, the three of them freezing as many shades as possible so the others might bust them apart with their weapons. Eventually, all three of them had to cast ice on the large shade bearing down on Carver and Mardin, who had moved in front of Brianna as soon as he could, and the two took the shade down simultaneously with their swords.

Before any of her friends could ask what had happened, the voice spoke out again, this time quieter, and Brianna could see it was coming from a shimmering cloud of blue smoke as it said, "I can do nothing about the Wardens' use of demons in this horrid place. But I will have no one say any magic of mine ever released one into the world . . ." The smoke disappeared as soon as the voice stopped speaking, and suddenly Brianna was sure.

"Was that . . . who I thought it was?" Carver asked, clearly astonished as he looked at her.

"That . . . definitely sounded like Father," Brianna agreed faintly, trying to work through her surprise and shock. "I don't understand how, though. And it sounded like . . ."

"Like a binding spell," Merrill supplied softly, looking sympathetic as she moved to Carver's side, and he tentatively wrapped an arm around her. "If that was your father, Hawke, he bound that demon behind that barrier."

"And it sounds like he did it for the Wardens," Anders added, frowning. "But I can't see the Wardens making use of demons. They wouldn't, would they?" He looked to Alistair, who, Brianna noted, looked disappointed, but not surprised.

"Wardens have always done whatever they needed to do, to stop the Blights and the darkspawn," Alistair said softly. "They've even used blood magic, sometimes, so if they thought binding demons would help . . ." He shrugged. "I don't know how it would help, and I'm not saying I agree with it, but I know if they thought it would be useful in combating the Blight, they would do anything."

"Anything no matter how dangerous or foolish, it would appear," Fenris muttered, and Alistair nodded in sombre agreement, Ayla moving to his side to slip her arm around him in silent support.

"I'm guessing your father never mentioned working with the Wardens?" Mardin asked quietly, clearly seeing the shock on Brianna's face.

She shook her head slowly, trying to process just how she felt about the whole thing. She'd never expected to hear her father's voice again, not after so many years, and indeed, had almost begun to forget what he sounded like. She didn't know if she was happy or devastated to hear him once more, nor why he would have done such a thing. Why would he have helped the Wardens bind demons? Why, when he had always been so adamant in his teachings with her and Bethany that they never become involved with demons, or blood magic? And why would he have never talked about it? "He never mentioned it," she said at last. "Not once. Did he . . . say anything to you?"

Carver shook his head, looking equally confused and shocked. "No, never. I had no idea he even knew any Wardens, let alone that he worked with them."

"Well," Merrill said hesitantly, "it sounds like he bound more than one demon, and it seems like he left a message behind with this one. Maybe if we find the others, there might be more messages to help you both understand."

"A few of the dwarves did mention your father, too," Varric pointed out. "How they needed the blood of Malcolm Hawke. Maybe if we run across more dwarves – or this Corypheus fellow – they'll know what your father was doing here with the Wardens."

"You're right," Brianna agreed finally, as Mardin gently squeezed her shoulder, giving her a sympathetic look. "If we keep going, we might find out what he was doing here. As long as everyone's okay with fighting more demons. Releasing that first one seemed to be the key to the message."

Varric grinned at her. "Anything for my favourite human, Hawke."

"We should not leave the demons here, in any case," Fenris said. "They might break out eventually, and it sounds like your father did not wish that to happen."

The others all added their agreement, and Brianna thanked them, touched by their support, before she turned and kept moving, leading them through the door beyond the cage where the demon had been, hoping to find out more about her father, about who Malcolm Hawke had really been.

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Over an hour later of moving through more stone hallways and rooms, filled with more sand, more darkspawn and yet more cages, Alistair suddenly called up to Brianna to stop, just in front of another door. She halted, turning back to look at him. "What is it?"

He and Ayla moved up to join her, looking equally confused. "I'm not sure," Alistair admitted. "I can sense something that might be a darkspawn, but I can't really tell . . . it feels different."

"And I can hear someone," Ayla supplied. She looked up at Alistair, seeming a bit reluctant as she went on, "He doesn't sound like a darkspawn, though."

Brianna frowned. Like she needed anything else weird to happen down here. "What's he saying?"

Ayla tilted her head, obviously listening closely before she repeated, "'The key! Did they find it? The dwarves? I heard them . . . looking . . . digging . . .'"

The key? Was this person, whoever they might be, talking about the staff? Brianna looked down at it, wondering if she might finally get some answers. She'd felt as soon as she picked the thing up that it was a key to something, maybe Corypheus. The staff pulsed and hummed in seeming agreement, and she looked to the door, then to Mardin, who had been close by her side since she'd heard her father's voice.

Mardin nodded as soon as she looked at him, obviously knowing what she'd been about to ask. "We should find out who – or what – it is, and what they know. There's no way to go but forward, anyway."

Brianna nodded in agreement, suddenly determined. He was right; they couldn't go back, and if she wanted answers, she would have to keep looking for them, no matter what. With that in mind, she pushed open the door and strode through. The door brought them out onto an old stone bridge, littered with debris and sand. Across the bridge, shambling towards them with an odd gait, was what appeared to be a man with dark hair growing in odd tufts, and a patchy beard. He wore what looked to be rusted platemail, and as he got closer, and Brianna moved further forward, the others following her, she could see that there looked to be a griffon on the front of the armor, much like there was on Alistair and Carver's armor. She looked behind her at the realization, and saw by the horror on Alistair's face that he'd come to the same conclusion. Even the blue and silver woven chainmail showing through the gaps in the plate armor matched what he and Carver wore. Did that mean this man was a Warden? But why would Alistair have said he felt like a darkspawn? She could see matching horror on Anders' face as he came up next to Alistair, and how tightly Alistair clutched Ayla to his side, and wondered what piece of the puzzle she was missing.

Before she could ask, however, Mardin was snarling, "Stop right there!"

She turned quickly back, to see that the man had come quite a bit closer, only halting about six feet away at the sound of Mardin's voice. The man was staring at her, or more accurately the staff she still held, and then he lifted his gaze to look her in the eyes. It was only now that they were so close that she noticed how gaunt and haggard the man's face looked, and that his eyes were glowing a frightening silvery-blue. "How do you bring the key here?" he demanded in a raspy voice.

"You're talking about this, right?" Brianna asked him, holding out the staff horizontally in front of her. "How is this a key?"

"Magic, old magic, it is," the man answered, his odd gaze dropping down to the staff again before it darted back up to her face. "Magic from the blood. It made the seals. It can destroy them."

"Seals? What seals? Do they have anything to do with Corypheus?" Brianna demanded, hoping that she could finally get more answers. This man, though clearly not fully sane, at least seemed less crazy than the dwarves had.

"Do not say his name!" the man cried, looking panicked. "He will hear you! Do not wake him. Not when you hold the key!"

"The way we came – it sealed behind us," Ayla said softly from just behind Brianna, clearly doing her best to sound soothing. "Do you know if there's another way out?"

"We can't leave until we make sure this Corypheus never comes after us again," Carver said with a frown, having joined Brianna on her other side.

"Of course not," Ayla murmured, "but we need to be able to leave after that. I have no plans to stay down here."

"Neither do I," Brianna agreed, and looked expectantly at the man in front of them for the answer.

He shook his head. "No way out when the walls stand. The Wardens built their prisons well. If the center holds, who cares what else is trapped?" He walked back and forth on the sand-covered bridge as he spoke, the wind whipping past him.

"Who cares, right," Mardin muttered sarcastically. "That's just great."

"I don't think we're getting any help here, Hawke," Varric added from a little further back.

The strange man whipped back towards her at Varric's words. "Hawke! You are the blood of the Hawke?" Brianna had only just managed to nod when he continued, "Yes, I smell the magic on you . . . But you hold the key! The key to his death . . . Yes, I can show you out, yes." He nodded emphatically.

"Who are you exactly?" Brianna asked, trying to keep her tone gentle. "What is it that's wrong with you?"

"You ask me that?" the man said, frowning. "I am the one who belongs here, not you. You are no darkspawn."

"That armor," Carver said slowly, clearly wanting to ask the same question that Brianna did. "It's Warden issue, isn't it, Commander?"

Before Alistair could say anything, the man looked suddenly at Carver, saying, "You hear it, no? Hear it calling? I smell it in you . . ." He looked over their group. "In three of you. Commander . . . that sounds familiar . . ." He shook the thought off, going on, "I know the way out. Follow me. Down and in. Down and in." He went scurrying off, back the way he came, before anyone could stop him.

Brianna turned to look at Alistair, raising her eyebrows. "Well? Is he a Warden, or not? I thought you said you sensed a darkspawn."

"I said something like a darkspawn, but different," Alistair corrected her, still looking a touch horrified, though he'd obviously gotten himself largely under control, Ayla still leaning against his side, her hand over his. "And yes," looking to Carver, "that armor is Warden issue. He is a Warden. Or rather, he _was_ a Warden."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mardin demanded, frowning.

"It means," Anders supplied with clear reluctance, "that he's closer to being a darkspawn now than he is a Warden. The taint has . . . corrupted him. It's what would have happened to Carver had he not gone through the Joining, though it would have been worse."

"But I thought . . ." Brianna looked anxiously to her little brother, who wasn't meeting her gaze, back to Alistair, whose expression was grim. "I thought being a Warden was supposed to stop that. But you're saying that man was a Warden and he's still corrupted?"

Alistair sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It doesn't stop the corruption, the taint. It just delays it by about thirty years or so, and gives Wardens the gifts they need to stop the Blight in the meantime."

"What did you just say?!" Mardin snarled, moving towards Alistair, though Ayla quickly stepped between them, halting her brother's advance. "Do you mean that's going to happen to you? How long do you have? How long before you bring my sister down with you?!"

Alistair flinched as though Mardin had just punched him, but he answered, his voice like iron, "It's not going to happen to me. Not ever. I'd rather die, like he was supposed to."

"You'd better start explaining what you mean, and quickly," Mardin growled, taking another step forward, only to have Ayla put a hand to his chest, pushing him back.

"Stop it, Mardy," she snapped, bringing her brother's gaze down to her, while Brianna looked on in shock, trying to figure out what this meant for Carver. "Stop trying to pick a fight with him."

"You already knew about this," Mardin accused her. "All of it."

"Of course I did," she retorted. "He told me a long time ago. And yes, he told me long before we bonded."

"And what I meant," Alistair interrupted before Mardin could say anything more, which Brianna could tell he was about to, his body vibrating with fury, "is that Wardens don't let the corruption take them over. Or they're not supposed to. When a Warden feels the corruption coming, they're supposed to go down into the Deep Roads and die fighting before it takes them over. We call it retirement," he finished dryly.

"I did say becoming a Warden came with a price," Anders added softly, meeting Brianna's gaze. "And it's not one they tell you in the recruitment speech."

"Obviously," Brianna said sarcastically, trying to define how she felt about this. "I imagine it would hurt their numbers a little."

"It was still the best choice for me, Bree." Carver came forward, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly. "For me, it was die now or thirty years from now. So don't get upset, okay? I would still make the same choice over again."

"So would I," Ayla added firmly, staring at her brother and holding up her hand to forestall his argument. "I mean it. I told you before, I chose to bond with Alistair and take the risks that come with it, and I'd do it again. Over and over again." She looked back at Alistair, smiling reassuringly at him, and he returned the smile, relief and love evident on his face.

Brianna, looking between the two and the still-furious Mardin, remembered what he'd told her about his parents and the bond, and realized just where his anger was coming from: he was terrified. Alistair would die in thirty years – less than that, actually, Brianna realized – and Mardin's little sister would either die with him, or never be the same again. She knew that was something he never wanted to see his sister go through, or experience himself, and could sympathize with his anger and fear, but now wasn't the time to have this argument. Carver was now trying to reassure Merrill, who was close to tears, and Varric and Fenris had drifted further back, talking amongst themselves and clearly trying to stay clear of the sudden family drama. Meanwhile, the man that had triggered the argument was now well out of sight, and they still needed him to get out of here.

With this in mind, she moved to Mardin's side, taking his hand as he was about to shout at Alistair again, and squeezed it gently. He turned to look at her, surprised; he obviously hadn't sensed her approach. She could see some of the anger starting to drain out of him, though, as he looked down at her. "Now's not the time to argue," she told him softly. "And she's telling you she made her choice, knowing the risks. Remember, it's not your right to tell her otherwise, no matter how it makes you feel." She met his gaze steadily, trying to tell him without words that she knew exactly how it made him feel, and she understood.

He let out a deep breath, squeezing her hand in turn, and she could visibly see him trying to let go of the anger. "You're right. Thank you." He turned to his sister. "And I'm sorry, Ayles. It's not that I . . . I just . . ."

Ayla smiled at him, clearly understanding the problem as well as Brianna had. "I know. And I'm happy with my choice, Mardy, I really am. You know why I did it."

"I do," Mardin said with a sigh. "I'm not happy about it, but I do know why." He glared over her head at Alistair. "And you'd better understand how lucky you are."

"I do," Alistair replied quietly, squeezing his wife's shoulder. "Of course I do."

"Well," Brianna tugged on Mardin's hand, which she still hadn't let go of, "should we follow him? Or do you not think it's a good idea?"

Mardin frowned, looking in the direction the former Warden had gone thoughtfully. "It's hard to tell what's dangerous and what's not, down here, since it all feels so dangerous, but . . ." he glanced back at his sister.

She nodded. "It's harder to tell than it would normally be, but I don't think he means us any harm."

"Have you decided yet, Hawke?" Varric had come up to join them, obviously deeming it safe now that the yelling had stopped. "Are we following the crazy guy, or what?"

"I think we are," Brianna replied, reluctantly letting go of Mardin's hand for now. "He says he knows the way out, and apparently he doesn't mean us harm, so I think it's our only option now."

"Then we had best hurry," Fenris advised, "before we can no longer find him."

"I can still sense him," Anders offered quietly. "I don't think he's gone all that far."

Alistair nodded. "It feels like he stopped moving."

"Then let's go." Brianna turned and strode forward in the direction the man had run a few minutes ago, Mardin at her side again and the others trailing behind as they picked their way around the rocky debris and finished crossing the bridge. Beyond the bridge, several yards away, was another door. It led to the outside of the circular tower, and halfway around it, the former Warden stood, waiting for them.

"What do I need to do?" Brianna asked him simply as they approached, holding up the staff again as a reminder.

"The seals hold us in," the man told her. "Anything comes in, nothing ever leaves. Not without the key. You must use it, yes. On the seals. Every seal, you touch the key to it. Only then they open. Only for the Hawke. Not back. Not up. Only way out is down and through the heart. Down . . . Down in the depths . . ." He pointed to the side, over the edge of the walkway, where the chasm yawned below them.

"Just what I wanted to hear," Anders muttered, and both Alistair and Ayla nodded in agreement, looking less than happy about the news. Not that Brianna was precisely happy, either. After the disaster that was the expedition, she'd never wanted to go back to the Deep Roads again. Now, it appeared she had no choice but to go, if she ever wanted to get out of this place.

"Come, come," the man said, waving them on as if in response to her thoughts. "We must go further in, deeper in, yes."

He scurried off, continuing to circle around the tower, and with a sigh, Brianna and the others followed. Most of the walkway around the tower was blocked off by fallen rocks, but they were eventually able to weave their way around and through enough to enter the circular tower. The room inside was hollow, empty but for a glowing green circle, almost like a raised dais, in the very center. Hanging along the walls on the inside were blue banners with the griffon of the Grey Wardens emblazoned on them, interspersed with the shields they'd seen earlier. Across the tower, another orange barrier blocked the other archway, which was flanked by huge griffon statues. That, Brianna guessed, must be what the seal would unlock. And the seal . . .

She moved over to the green, glowing circle. "This must be the seal, right?"

"I think it must be," Anders agreed, as they all gathered around, staring at it.

"And you'll have to use your blood to open it, along with the key," Merrill offered quietly. "That's why they want your blood. They need either the blood of the mage who made the seal, or of someone who shares his blood."

Brianna looked at the elf in shock, shaking her head. "But, he wouldn't have. Father . . . he would never have used blood magic. He hated it."

Merrill shrugged, looking uncomfortable as Carver stared at her in disbelief also. "Maybe he wouldn't normally, but he did here. That seal . . . I can tell it's made with blood magic, and it would explain why they wanted your blood."

Brianna looked around for the mysterious man who'd led them here, but couldn't see him anywhere in the room. He hadn't mentioned blood, only the key. Surely Merrill was wrong, wasn't she? "Where is he?" she demanded, realizing she didn't know his name. "He just said to use the key."

"The key, yes, but with blood on it," Merrill said again, reluctantly.

"And he snuck off," Mardin answered her question. "I can't smell where he went, not down here."

"He's still nearby . . . somewhere," Anders added with a frown, "but I can't see him. Anyway, I do think Merrill's right, unfortunately."

"Then . . . I guess I'd better try it." Blood magic was the last thing she wanted to get involved in, but Brianna knew she had no choice if she wanted to get out of here. She moved closer to the circle, then turned and held her left hand out to Mardin, holding the staff in her right. "Can you cut it for me?"

Mardin frowned at her. "Are you sure?"

She nodded, and he reluctantly pulled out one of his daggers, crossing over to where she stood by the circle. "Wait!" Carver called, interrupting them as Mardin reached for her hand. "Won't my blood work too? Let me do it."

"It will," Merrill agreed.

"It sounds like there's more than just this one seal. We'll take turns, okay?" Brianna smiled at her brother, and he sighed, but nodded, stepping back again.

Mardin took her hand gently in his own left hand, holding it open as the dagger in his right hovered above her palm. "I'm sorry," he whispered to her, and she shook her head, smiling to let him know it was fine as he carefully drew the dagger across her palm, just deep enough to cause a line of blood to well up. It hurt more than she'd expected, but she did her best to remain stoic, knowing that it might upset Mardin, judging by the frown on his face. As soon as it was done, she gently withdrew her hand from his, holding it down over the staff and letting her blood drip on it. Once several drops of her blood were on the staff, she pressed it to the dome of the glowing green circle. With a flash of light, the barrier disappeared.

In its place stood a huge, horned monster, wreathed in flames, which roared and swung its fist right at Brianna, who was too startled by its sudden appearance to move. Fortunately, Mardin wasn't; he dove right at her, knocking her to the side and bringing them both to the ground, just out of range of its fist. He moved almost instantly after, while Brianna still felt winded from his bulk slamming into her, scooping her up and darting further backwards. Anders was the first of their party to recover, blasting the creature with ice. It roared and moved forward, met by Alistair, Carver, and Fenris, who did their best to block its attacks as Anders and Merrill fired more ice spells at it, followed by Varric's bolts and Ayla's daggers.

Mardin set Brianna down carefully once he'd gotten her back by Anders and Merrill. "Are you all right?" he murmured as he drew his sword and shield.

Having mostly recovered her breath, Brianna nodded, though she knew she still sounded a bit breathless as she replied, "I'll be fine. Go; I'll stay back here and hit it with ice."

He nodded, racing forward to join the others, taking the place of Fenris who had just gone down hard from a blow to his side, and Brianna sent a powerful blast of ice right at the creature's head, causing it to roar and stumble. Alistair and Carver took that opportunity to slip behind the creature and hamstring it on either side, causing it to fall to its knees even as more ice spells blasted it in the chest. Mardin leapt up, striking the creature directly in the heart, and with a gurgling roar, it fell backwards, the others having gotten out of the way just in time. Though the creature was down, Alistair drew his sword across its neck just to be sure, apparently, as Mardin wrenched his sword out of its heart.

Brianna looked up to see that the orange barrier was disappearing, and breathed a sigh of relief as she glanced around at the others. No one appeared to be hurt other than Fenris, who was clutching his side as he stood, likely due to some broken ribs from the blow. He was snarling at Anders to stay back, however; he'd never been much of a fan of letting Anders heal him. Brianna sighed and went over to help; for whatever reason, Fenris appeared to tolerate her healing spells much better, and it would stop an argument.

She was just finishing up the spell on Fenris, grateful that it was something she could heal without Anders' help, when their mystery man came shambling towards them again. Brianna frowned at him. "So that was the first seal, right?"

The man nodded. "Two thousand years, the magic holds. Never broken. Give it the key." He gestured at the four pillars that remained standing on the circular dais. "Let it take the magic back to itself. Absorb it, all who came before . . ."

Brianna sighed, moving over to the seal and standing in the center. "What should I do?" she demanded, shrugging her shoulders.

Anders walked around the seal thoughtfully. "I would guess that you touch one of those pillars with your staff, the way you did the seal, and absorb the magic."

Brianna frowned and then shrugged, picking one of the pillars at random, touching the staff to it. A burst of bright energy went into the staff, sending a shockwave of power through her arm and into her body, much like when she'd first picked up the staff. It was almost a bit painful this time as she held onto the staff, her arm shaking with the effort of keeping it in place as it absorbed the energy. Finally, the light disappeared, and the man nodded in satisfaction as she lowered the staff. "The blood works. It is good."

Brianna stepped out of the circle, slowly approaching him. "Thank you for helping us, but . . . you still haven't said who you are. What's your name?"

The former Warden tipped his head thoughtfully, slowly strolling over to the wall of the tower. "Name . . . So long since I've said my name. La . . . Larius! I was Larius." He nodded, appearing pleased with himself before he turned to look up at the shield on the wall he'd wandered over to. "There . . . was a title, too. Commander . . . Commander of the Grey."

"Commander of the Grey?" Alistair repeated, sounding shocked. Brianna glanced at him, seeing the look of horror was back on his face as he stared at Larius. "You were a Commander?"

Ayla apparently understood what worried him, for she crossed over to him, putting a hand to his armoured chest and saying firmly, "That won't be you. It will never be you, I promise. I wouldn't let it happen."

Alistair nodded slowly, the horror and worry fading from his face as he pulled her closer, whispering something to her that Brianna couldn't hear, even as Anders said quietly, "He must have been a former Commander from one of the other countries, who came down here on his Calling and failed."

Larius, who had still been staring up at the shield, turned at Anders' words, nodding emphatically. "Yes! The Calling . . . the songs get louder. Only death stops them. I am dead. But I never died." He looked Anders squarely in the eye, and the mage dropped his head, looking uncomfortable.

"What's this Calling he's talking about?" Brianna looked from Anders to Alistair. "Is it something to do with the corruption?"

Alistair nodded, his attention obviously having been drawn back to the conversation by the mention of the Calling. "It's how we know the corruption has started, that our time has come. Once we start to hear it, the voices that the darkspawn hear, we know the taint is taking over, and that's when we head to the Deep Roads to die before . . . well, before that happens." He gestured at Larius.

Brianna frowned, wondering what precisely Larius had meant when he'd said he was dead but had never died. Did that mean he'd died fighting darkspawn, but the taint had kept him from dying, turning him into this shell of a person? Or was it just rambling from having allowed the taint to take him over? She wasn't sure, and that made her nervous. For this to happen to Carver, or Anders, or even Alistair, though she didn't know him that well, was unthinkable, and so she decided to simply _not_ think about it at the moment. There was enough to worry about right now; maybe later, she'd think on it some more and see if she could find out for sure what Larius had meant, for she wasn't about to let her brother go through this.

Mardin was starting to look upset again, obviously thinking along the same lines she was and how that would affect Ayla, and so Brianna staved off the argument she knew was coming by turning to Larius. "I've opened the first seal, so what are we supposed to do now?"

"There are more." Larius pointed to the archway that had been blocked before. "Follow them in. All the way to the heart. Many locks. Only one key." He whirled around suddenly, looking behind him as though startled by something that wasn't there. "C-Corypheus calls! In the darkness! What waits there?" He scurried forward once more, through the archway, leaving them all behind to stare after him.

He had only been gone for about thirty seconds when Anders suddenly cried out, clapping his hands over his ears. "I'm not listening! I'm not listening!"

"No!" Alistair cried at almost the same time. "I won't listen!"

Brianna looked quickly to Carver. Though he was frowning, tilting his head as if he was straining to hear something, he didn't appear to be affected the way the other two Wardens were, and Brianna wondered if it was because he'd become one so recently. Whatever reason there was behind it, she was grateful that Carver still seemed relatively normal, while the other two were panicking, trying to block out the sounds that apparently only they could hear.

"What madness is this?" Fenris growled, but Brianna could only shake her head; she had no answer.

"You're okay, aren't you, Carver?" Merrill asked worriedly, looking up at him, and he nodded, smiling down at her. "I'm fine, Merrill. I think I can hear something, but it's so faint it's not bothering me."

Alistair appeared to be back to normal, Brianna noted; Ayla had both her hands to his chest and was murmuring something to him, while Mardin studied them suspiciously. Alistair's face had cleared, the panic and pain on it gone, but Anders still appeared to be affected by it; he was nearly doubled over now, chanting, "I'm not listening!" over and over.

"Come on, Blondie!" Varric exclaimed, having gone to Anders' side. "You're strong enough to overcome this!" He whacked Anders on the back, and whether it was that or the sounds had really stopped, Anders suddenly straightened. He looked around, his face pale and drawn, and then smiled shakily at Varric.

"You all right now, Blondie?" Varric asked, still looking worried.

"I . . . think so," Anders answered. "The voice seems to have stopped."

"And exactly what voice was that?" Mardin still hadn't taken his gaze off Alistair, his frown deepening.

"It was Corypheus, I think," Anders admitted reluctantly, glancing at Alistair as well. "Wasn't it?"

"I think so." Alistair shrugged, looking disturbed as he held Ayla close still. "It was almost like the archdemon, but a little different. Almost . . . worse. I could shake off the archdemon without too much trouble, usually, but this was . . ." He glanced down at Ayla, then up at the rest of them. "It was harder. And I don't know what Corypheus is, but he's definitely got something to do with the darkspawn."

"Worse? That's great!" Mardin threw up his hands. "Does that mean he can control you two like he's controlling the dwarves?"

"No." Alistair shook his head, his voice like iron again. "I'll be fine now." He cast a quick glance down at Ayla again, causing Mardin's eyes to narrow, before he looked up. "Corypheus won't control me. Or Anders, either. Right?"

Anders nodded, though Brianna noted that he looked a little less sure than Alistair. "Right. I can't hear him anymore, and if I hear him again, I'll just . . . shake it off."

"We should find some place to rest soon," Carver observed. "It's getting pretty late, and I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm feeling pretty tired. And if we've got more of these seals to go through, we might want to rest up first."

"You're right," Brianna agreed. "I am getting a little exhausted." She didn't add that she wasn't sure she could take another energy absorption like that without a little sleep; everyone else looked exhausted enough that she suspected they would agree without protest, and she didn't want to worry them.

"We should rest," Mardin said, finally turning his attention away from Alistair and Ayla, "but not here. We'll need to find somewhere a little more defensible first, a smaller room that's more closed off, maybe with only one entrance, if we can."

"Perhaps it would be beneficial to continue onwards to find a room to rest," Fenris suggested. "It would save us time later if we do not backtrack."

"It's a good idea," Brianna conceded. As much as she wanted to rest, she didn't want to go back the way they'd come; indeed, she wasn't even sure that she could, since the staff was still pulling at her to move forward. It wasn't as urgent now that she'd opened the first seal, but it was still a persistent, nagging impulse to keep going deeper in. "Is everybody all right with that?" When the others all nodded, no matter how weary they looked, she turned and followed Larius through the doorway that had previously been blocked.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Though they'd had to fight a couple more groups of darkspawn along the way, they had found a small room with only one door into it off one of the hallways after only an hour's search. And luckily, Brianna thought, there had been no more seals or barriers to get through before they had found it. She was sitting on her pallet, her back against the wall, the staff lying next to her; it had finally let her put it down, almost as if it knew she needed to rest for a while. Most of the others were asleep, with the exception of Anders, who was on watch, and Mardin, who was pacing back and forth in front of her, not unlike a caged animal, which she supposed wasn't entirely inaccurate.

"Mardin," she called softly, unable to watch him pace any longer, "come here."

He turned to look at her, his expression unreadable, but when she patted the pallet next to her, he finally came over and sat down, his arm pressed to hers. "What is it?" he murmured, glancing over at her.

She debated how best to bring up what she wanted to ask him, but in the end, she settled for being blunt. "Are you okay?"

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Am _I_ okay? I should be asking you that! I mean, finding out your father was involved with this place, and then hearing what being a Warden means for Carver . . ."

"That's what I'm talking about, though," Brianna replied, determinedly ignoring his comment about her father; she didn't have enough information on what her father had been doing down here, and so there was no point in even thinking about it. "Carver's right; it was the best choice for him. But your sister . . . she's bonded to Alistair, right? Like your parents were bonded together?" Mardin nodded tightly, his expression darkening. "Which would mean she shares his fate, and she doesn't have to. I know that must have been hard for you to hear."

"It was," he admitted, not looking at her now as he wrapped his hand around the hilt of his sword, clutching it tightly. He kept his voice low as he went on, "It was bad enough knowing she'd bonded with him. They're both skilled fighters; I could hope that they'd be able to stay alive through anything that happened. But now I know; no matter what they do, or how hard they fight, he'll die in less than thirty years. And no matter what happens with the bond, my sister – the Ayles I know – she'll be gone."

Brianna carefully pried his hand off his sword hilt, and threaded her fingers through his, knowing that he needed the comfort. She could at least comfort herself with the knowledge that with Carver, there had been no choice. He would be dead right now if he hadn't become a Warden. Mardin didn't have that. But . . . "Maybe not. Maybe we can do something about it."

He looked sharply at her, his hand tightening its grip on hers. "What do you mean? Do you know something about this Calling?"

She shook her head. "No more than you do. But we can find out, see if there's some way to delay it, or get rid of it altogether. It won't be easy, especially if the Wardens keep secrets even from their own members, but I'm not going to let that stop me. I don't think you will, either."

"Damn right I won't," he agreed, and she could see his expression easing now that a new purpose was set in front of him. He smiled down at her. "So when we get out of here and back to Kirkwall, we'll see what we can find out?"

She nodded. "I'll ask around, and maybe get Varric and his spies to help too, see what we can learn about the Calling. There must be a way to at least delay it, if not stop it altogether. And even though I know this was the best choice for Carver, if I can give him more time, I will. I'll do anything."

"Me too. And maybe once we figure out what I need to help you with in Kirkwall, we can make that our next mission." He shifted, letting go of her hand only to wrap his arm around her shoulders and draw her into his side, and she went without any protest.

"I think we can," she agreed, smiling up at him. "Any idea what this destiny of ours is supposed to be?"

He frowned, shaking his head slowly. "No idea. Maybe it has something to do with that idol we found on the expedition, or maybe it has something to do with the Qunari in Kirkwall. Both feel dangerous."

"Well, we'll figure it out," she said, suddenly certain that they would, though she wasn't sure why. "And we'll figure out how to give them more time." She nodded to both of their siblings, asleep across the room.

"Yeah, we will." He squeezed her, smiling down at her with clear gratitude. "Thank you." He loosened his grip, moving to get up, but she pulled him back down.

"Stay." She wanted to say that it would make them both feel better, but somehow she knew that would only send him running, so she said instead, "I'll be cold otherwise." It wasn't a lie; the tower wasn't very warm, and she only had a thin blanket.

He studied her for a moment, but eventually he nodded, as she'd known he would. "Okay."

"But no funny stuff," she teased him as they shifted to lie down and Mardin pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her.

He laughed, the sound vibrating against her back. "Well, I wouldn't want to make everyone jealous. And I did promise to wait until we were back in Kirkwall, as much as it's killing me."

She didn't dare admit it was killing her just a little bit too, especially pressed to his body as she was. She still wasn't about to risk absolutely everyone hearing them, so instead she said, "Don't let it kill you before we get back to Kirkwall, or you'll be no use to me."

Mardin snorted. "I promise; I'll be very useful when we get back."

She couldn't contain her smile. "I know you will." And as they fell asleep, she couldn't shake the knowledge that this little fling of theirs was not going to be as uncomplicated as she'd hoped.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Be bound here for eternity, hunger stilled, rage smothered, desire dampened, pride crushed. In the name of the Maker, so let it be."

It was early the next morning, and not long after they'd left the room they slept in, they'd come across another of the barriers containing red gems. And once again, just as she approached it, Brianna could hear her father's voice chanting the spell; the spell he'd apparently used to bind demons down here for the Wardens. She hesitated for a moment, glancing over at Carver, who nodded, and then at the others, who readied their weapons. She and Carver moved to break the gems on the shields, the same as last time, and the barrier disappeared, revealing an abomination that summoned several profane to aid it.

The battle wasn't anything their party couldn't handle, however, and soon enough, the abomination fell and the blue smoke appeared once more, the voice of Malcolm Hawke drifting from it. "I may have left the Circle, but I took a vow. My magic will serve that which is best in me, not that which is most base."

Brianna was unable to help mouthing the last sentence along with the voice; she'd heard it probably a thousand times before. She stared at the spot where the blue smoke had once more disappeared, silently willing it to say something else, to grant her more of her father's voice.

"'That which is best in me.' Father used to say that, didn't he?" Carver asked her in a low voice, moving to her side. "To you and Bethany? She never felt like she could live up to him."

"Neither did I," Brianna admitted with a shrug, looking up at him. "But I know he would have been proud of her. You too."

Carver ducked his head, looking embarrassed, though a slight smile passed across his face. "You really think so?" When she nodded, he grinned. "He would have been proud of you, too. Isn't odd that a darkspawn-filled pit is making me feel closer to Father?"

Brianna smiled. "Not at all. I feel it too; we haven't heard his voice in so long. Come on, maybe we can hear it again."

She turned and nodded to the others, who had been waiting a ways back, respecting her and Carver's privacy, and they moved out of the room, which brought them to another bridge, this one destroyed. They could see across the way, however, and Brianna could just make out Larius darting past several darkspawn. They hadn't seen him since the night before, but it appeared they'd finally caught up to him. Brianna moved forward, determined to catch up to him now that she knew she was going the right way, and after circling around the tower, found another door leading further in.

They made their way through more stone rooms, down a long hallway filled with pillars, and through yet more rooms, fighting more darkspawn as they went. Finally, they found another barrier bound by the red gems, and like before, she and Carver immediately moved to break the gems and open it. This time, the barrier disappeared to reveal a desire demon, which raised corpses around the room. The others moved to destroy the corpses by knocking the heads off, while she and Carver, eventually joined by Mardin, fought the desire demon, finally bringing it down. When the desire demon fell with a cry, Brianna looked around impatiently, willing the blue smoke to appear once more.

It seemed to take longer than it had the last two times, so that she was beginning to think it wouldn't appear, but then suddenly, there it was. She almost thought she could make out her father's image in the smoke as his voice said, "I've bought our freedom, Leandra. We can go home now, us and the baby. We'll be together. I hope it takes after you, love. I would wish this magic on no one. May they never learn what I've done here." And with that, he was gone.

Brianna could only stare at the spot where her father's image had been, frozen with shock. He hadn't wanted a child with magic? He hadn't wanted _her_?

"Father didn't want a child with magic?" Carver repeated, incredulously, and she could feel him staring at her. "He got that one wrong twice over."

"That's not funny, Carver," Brianna snapped, glaring at him, the pain of her father's words twisting through her heart.

"No, you're right, I'm sorry," Carver said, shaking his head. "But . . . he sure didn't show any regret back home. The attention he gave you and Bethany . . . Well, I guess he figured the worst that could happen to me was tripping on my sword."

"He believed in you," Brianna told him softly, now wanting to ease the pain she saw on his face, even if her own hadn't gone away. "He knew you didn't need protecting, that you were the one who was protecting us." And it was true, she realized; how many times had Carver put himself between her and danger, giving her the time she needed to use her magic?

Carver shrugged, though some of the pain on his face was easing. "Sure, it's easy to believe that now. But I think . . . I just wanted to help. I did sometimes worry, for you two. Bethany just wanted to be 'normal'. As if I made a good case for it."

Brianna grinned, unable to help herself as she poked him in the shoulder. "Nobody thinks you're normal, don't worry about that. But yes, she did always see the best in everyone, didn't she?"

Carver laughed, shaking his head. "Fine, I suppose I deserved that. I miss her and Father. And . . . well, I guess soon I'll be missing you and Mother a lot more, too. Gamlen can go suck an egg, though. Come on, this mess down here, it's not following us out." He turned to leave, Merrill hurrying to catch up to him and slip her hand into his as they went.

Brianna turned to follow him, and Mardin, who had simply watched quietly, fell into step beside her. "Do you need to talk?" he asked after a moment.

Talking with Carver might have made her feel a little better, but she still couldn't stop the bitterness in her voice as she retorted, "Talk about what? How my father didn't want a mage for a daughter? I must have been such a disappointment to him."

"Come on," Mardin said softly, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his side as they walked. "You know that's not what he meant. It sounds like he was forced to use his magic down here, and I'm sure he just didn't want any child of his to go through the same things that he did. You weren't a disappointment to him; he was proud of you."

"How do you know he was proud of me?" Brianna snapped at him, the bitterness still twisting deep within her, even as part of her acknowledged the logic in his words. "You didn't know him."

Mardin gave a one-shouldered shrug. "It's true, I didn't, but I know you. It would've been impossible for him not to be proud of you. You're funny, brave, feisty," he gave her a wink, "and devoted to your family. Any father would be proud to have you as a daughter, I'm sure."

Brianna halted, staring at him in surprise, forcing him to stop with her as an unaccustomedly warm feeling bloomed through her chest, chasing away the bitterness she'd felt. She went with the impulse suddenly taking her over, and looping an arm around his neck, pulled his face down to hers to gift him with a thorough kiss, not caring who saw them at this moment. Like the first time she'd kissed him, it was as though she'd broken down a dam; he surged forward, pressing her against the nearest stone wall, his mouth devouring hers hungrily. She wrapped herself around him, returning the kiss with equal ardour, fire burning through every vein in her body, not even thinking about where they were.

He was just pressing her hips into his when Brianna felt a thump, like someone had whacked him in the back, the impact shaking both of them. Mardin lifted his head, both of them panting for air, as Varric said, "Come on, Red. Not that I blame you for jumping at the chance, but this really isn't the time for that, you know?" As Mardin let her down, stepping back, Brianna stared at Varric, raising her eyebrows. He simply smirked at her. "You too, Hawke, everyone's waiting."

Brianna glanced past him; the others had moved on ahead, following Carver, and didn't really appear to be waiting, probably in order to avoid embarrassment. Ayla was the only one looking back over her shoulder, clearly amused, and Brianna couldn't help but remember both the warning and advice Ayla had given her about Mardin when they'd first met. _You're the first woman I've seen with the power to truly hurt my brother. Take care that you don't, or I'll rip your throat out._ When Brianna had assured her she had no intention of hurting Mardin, Ayla had nodded, pleased, and given her advice next: _You could make him happy, too. Take it slow, and pretend you're just having fun until he's in too deep to run away._ She gave Ayla a slight nod, suddenly certain that she wanted to follow her advice, and Ayla grinned before she turned to catch up with Alistair.

"Go on, Varric," Brianna waved her friend off. "We'll catch up. We're done . . . for now," she added teasingly, grinning at Mardin, who smiled.

Varric smirked. "If you say so, Hawke." He moved to follow the others, and Brianna and Mardin fell in behind him.

"What was that for?" Mardin whispered to her after Varric was far enough ahead. "Not that I'm complaining, of course."

Brianna tilted her head to look up at him, smiling slightly. "You know what it was for. If you say something sweet like that, you're going to get rewarded."

He smiled in return, his eyes starting to blaze with that blue fire as he looked her over. "Then I'll have to do that more often, clearly."

"You should," she agreed, "once we're out of here and back in Kirkwall, that is." She gave him a teasing look as she hurried to catch up to the others, and he groaned, but followed her willingly enough.

They moved on through several more rooms and a hallway that curved around, passing through another cavern where they fought more darkspawn before crossing another bridge and arriving in a circular tower room, identical to the last one, with a glowing green seal in the center of the room. This time, Brianna let Carver cut his hand, his blood dripping down onto the staff while the others readied their weapons in preparation for another guardian. As soon as the light flashed, Brianna moved away quickly, allowing Carver, Mardin and the other fighters to take on the huge, horned guardian with spiked arms.

With the first sword strike, however, this guardian split into three with another bright flash of light, leaving their party split and facing three monstrosities. Brianna just barely dodged out of the way of a fist, bringing up a magical shield to block its next blow as Carver ran back to help her. Meanwhile, Ayla had been forced to pull her swords, keeping herself between the guardian and Merrill while the elf cast stone spikes at it, and Ayla rolled out of the way of a fist before coming up behind the demon and hamstringing it while Alistair hurried to help her. Anders and Varric were facing off against the third guardian, while Fenris moved to attack it from behind, taking its attention off the other two. Mardin looked torn for a second as to who to help, but eventually came to Carver and Brianna's aid, as the guardian attacking his sister went down with a stone spike through its chest, Alistair driving his sword into it shortly after. Brianna knocked their guardian back with an explosive fireball, sending it to the ground and allowing Carver and Mardin to finish it off. The third guardian fell at almost the same time, brought down by Varric's grenades, Anders' magic, and Fenris' sword.

"I guess I touch one of these pillars again?" Brianna asked, approaching the seal once they'd determined everyone was okay.

Anders nodded. "I imagine it would be the same as last time. Be careful, though. We still don't know exactly what we're dealing with."

Brianna nodded, approaching the dais with caution, and carefully touching the staff to one of the pillars. As before, it lit up with nearly blinding light, passing through the staff and into her, the light pulsing through her body, more powerful and painful than last time, and she couldn't stop the cry that escaped her lips as the last bit of energy slammed into her body before the light winked out. She dropped to her knees, gasping, trying to catch her breath.

"Brianna!" Mardin was at her side instantly, kneeling next to her, his voice sounding urgent and panicked. She could hear Carver calling for her in the background, too, as Mardin rested a hand on her back, tilting her face up to his with his other hand. "Are you all right?"

She took a deep breath, smiling reassuringly at him as the pain faded away. "Yeah, I'm fine. It was just a bit more intense than last time, that's all." He looked at her doubtfully, but she moved to get up, and he scrambled to help her, lifting her to her feet as she assured him, "I'm fine, I promise you."

"If you say so," he said at last, letting go of her as she nodded. "I do. Now come on, let's keep going."

She headed towards the doorway that, like last time, had been blocked by a barrier until she'd brought down the seal. Mardin and the others moved to follow her, but even as they approached it, Anders cried out. "No! Get out of my head!"

Brianna whirled to look back at him; like before, the other mage was doubled over, hands pressed to his ears, trying to block out the voice of Corypheus. She darted a glance to Alistair. He looked pale, but he wasn't panicking like last time, though he kept Ayla close to his side. Brianna thought she heard Mardin mutter something, but she didn't quite catch it as Carver moved to Anders' side, shaking his shoulder.

"Anders? Anders!" There was no response as Anders kept his hand pressed over his ears, shouting for the voice to go away, and Carver looked to Brianna, clearly worried. "Maker, it's like he doesn't even hear me."

Varric moved to him too, calling, "Blondie! Come on, Blondie, snap out of it!" This time, though, even Varric whacking his back didn't work. It wasn't until Alistair told him to focus, to listen to something else and block out Corypheus, that Anders finally straightened up, seeming to shrug off the sound at last.

The mage looked pale, but he smiled shakily at them. "I'll be all right. Let's keep going."

"We cannot afford for you to lose it down here, abomination," Fenris growled.

"Fenris, enough," Brianna snapped, glaring at the elf. "That is not going to help." Fenris scowled, but he stalked away, and Brianna turned to Anders, smiling gently. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

Anders nodded firmly, looking determined, if still pale. "Yes, I can control it. I can shut him out now."

"All right, let's go then." Brianna started forward again, following Fenris who had already started to circle around the outside of the tower, and the others followed behind without incident this time. They reached a bridge, and at the other end, they could finally see Larius again, waiting there for them.

As they got closer, he shambled towards them. "He is waking. The magic grows lax. He feels us walk where no step goes."

Brianna frowned at him, still not understanding precisely what was going on. "What do you mean waking? How could this Corypheus be sending the dwarves after me and my brother if he's asleep?"

"He can call, dream, but not know," Larius explained, glancing over his shoulder as if he expected to see Corypheus there. "He calls like an Old God. He mimics their cry. When the seals are gone, he will wake. And he must die."

"Well, I don't think you're wrong about that," Brianna muttered. She studied the strange former Warden and his gleaming eyes, curious as she asked, "How have you survived down here? Those darkspawn before didn't even seem to notice you when you ran by them."

"The Calling. The music. It is our death." Larius looked at Alistair, then Anders. "You know."

"Supposedly, once the corruption goes far enough, the darkspawn can't sense you anymore," Anders answered, frowning as if the thought made him uncomfortable.

Alistair nodded. "He feels enough like they do now that even they can't tell the difference."

"Your last advantage as you throw yourself at them, then?" Carver said dryly.

"Yes. I lived, but I died. The corruption feeds me. So many years in darkness . . ." Larius murmured, trailing off as he looked behind him.

"Can you hear him again?" Anders looked worried as he followed Larius' gaze.

Larius turned back. "He calls them to free him. The dark children and the light, any with taint in their blood." He nodded at the three Wardens again.

Brianna scowled, frustrated. She wanted to know what the Calling was, who or what Corypheus was, and she still didn't feel like she was getting any concrete answers. "You say Corypheus mimics the Old Gods. So if Corypheus isn't an Old God, what is he? Human, demon, darkspawn?"

Larius shrugged, as if he couldn't properly explain the answer. "More than darkspawn. More than human. He thinks. He talks. He pierces the Veil."

"Are you talking about an awakened darkspawn?" Alistair crossed his arms, frowning. "I've only run across them once before, and Weisshaupt said that was the first time we'd encountered them."

"That might have been what they told you, but that doesn't make it the truth," Anders pointed out, to which Alistair gave a reluctant nod of agreement. "After all, they didn't bother telling you what this place was."

"He wants what was once his," Larius said, as if that answered any of their questions.

"What exactly would that be?" Brianna wanted to know.

When Larius didn't bother to answer, Mardin offered, "Freedom, maybe? The dwarves kept talking about letting him free to walk in the sun. Which I'd like to do if we ever get out of here."

"We will," Brianna promised him, turning to Larius. "You're supposed to show us the way out. You can't keep running off. Where do you go, anyway?"

"I know the darkness before the seals. Here, the voice is too strong. I cannot stay!" Larius cried in sudden panic, before he ran off again, leaving them behind, ignoring Brianna's call for him to come back.

"Well, if we keep going down, we're bound to run into him again," Ayla offered.

Brianna sighed and nodded, heading towards the door Larius had run through, the others trailing behind her. Through the door, several flights of stairs wound down to the next level, bringing them into an underground cavern of immense size, littered with pillars and ruins amongst the natural cave formations. A hazy green smoke seemed to run through everything as they picked their way forward along the only path through the ruins. They made their way past an underground stream which eventually fed into an underground lake, fighting their way through darkspawn and deepstalkers. Finally, the path led them to a very long stone bridge which brought them to the base of another huge tower. They were circling around to the left of the tower, having just killed more darkspawn, when Anders shook his head, clapping his hands over his ears again. "Ugh, just make him stop talking! Make him stop!"

"He's hearing Corypheus again, right?" Carver asked, looking to Alistair, who nodded. Brianna noted that while Alistair once again looked pale, his face drawn with exhaustion, he didn't seem to be struggling the way Anders was. And strangely enough, Ayla also looked pale as she stood next to Alistair.

"Corypheus is calling him," Alistair explained quietly. "Trying to get Anders to come help him, like the dwarves. Anders, you have to focus. You have to shut him out."

Anders cried out in pain, dropping to his knees in answer, and Brianna noted that Alistair winced, as though in similar pain, but straightened up a few seconds later, holding tight to Ayla's hand. Mardin was watching them with narrowed eyes, looking suspicious, though Brianna had no idea why. When Anders cried out again, Brianna hurried to his side, kneeling next to him.

"What is it? What's wrong? Can't you shut him out?"

Anders shook his head frantically, his hands still clutched tight over his ears. "I can't . . . the voices . . . W-wardens . . . the Joining . . . I have too much taint in my blood. I can't shut him out."

Alistair had come forward now, crouching down by Anders, Ayla close behind him as the others watched on in concern. "You have to try, come on. If you work at it, focus on other things, you can block it out."

"Commander, I can't. I've tried . . . help me. I will not . . . **be controlled**." His voice suddenly changed halfway through, deepening and echoing, as magic surged through the air and Anders straightened up with a burst of energy, his body cracked and glowing blue along with his eyes as Justice took over.

Ayla and Mardin, who had also come closer, jumped back, snarling as if in reflex, reaching for their weapons. Fenris, too, drew his sword, coming closer as he growled, "I knew he was nothing but an abomination. We should eliminate him now, before he attacks us."

"We're not going to kill our friend!" Merrill cried, looking distressed. "We're not, are we, Hawke?"

"Don't worry, Daisy, we won't," Varric said as he came forward, though he was clutching Bianca tightly. "Blondie will be fine; he'll shake this off too."

"Of course we won't kill him," Brianna added, glaring at Fenris. "We'll find another way to deal with this." She turned to Anders, saying soothingly, "Calm down, Anders. You have to let it go."

"Get back," Alistair said suddenly. "You can feel it, can't you? The pull on the Veil? He's about to summon something. I'll handle it, but I need you out of the way. You and Merrill especially."

"Why me and Merrill especially . . ." Brianna began before it suddenly hit her as she remembered Alistair mentioning that he'd trained as a Templar before joining the Wardens. "Oh. You're going to . . ."

"Yes," he cut her off, never taking his eyes off Anders – or Justice, Brianna supposed. "Which is why you two need to be well out of range. Hurry, now."

Brianna didn't bother to argue, hurrying back from where he stood, grabbing Merrill's arm as she went and pulling the elf with her. "Hawke, what are you doing?" Merrill asked, though she went willingly enough.

"Getting us out of the way," Brianna hissed as she moved them well back, behind Varric and Carver and over a hundred yards away. "Alistair is going to smite him."

"Oh, but that will hurt Anders, won't it?" Merrill looked back to the others as Alistair moved closer, sword and shield up, and Ayla and Mardin began to circle around behind Justice.

"It'll hurt less than if Fenris hits him with a sword," Brianna pointed out.

And then she felt it, even from this distance, the push of – well, negative energy was the only way she could think to describe it. It hit Justice, and he roared. " **Templar! You dare!** "

Alistair didn't answer, just hit him again with another smite, bringing Justice down to one knee. The spirit moved, lifting Anders' staff as if it was about to retaliate, but suddenly one of Ayla's daggers struck the staff, causing Justice to look at her as she shouted, "Hey! Over here!"

Just as the spirit turned to look at her, Mardin rushed him from behind, slamming his shield into the back of Justice's head. He pitched forward, falling flat on his face, but the blue glow wasn't quite gone yet. Brianna felt one more push of energy at the same time as Mardin slammed his shield into the back of Anders' head again, and suddenly, the blue glow was gone, as if it had been sucked out of Anders' body.

Brianna hurried forward as Varric let out a sigh of relief. "Poor Blondie. I'm glad I didn't have to use Bianca, though. She hates being turned on her friends."

"It would have been simpler to eliminate him," Fenris muttered as Brianna went by him.

She sighed, shaking her head at him. "We're not going to do that. He's our friend, and besides that, we need his help, especially down here."

"I suppose he is occasionally useful," Fenris conceded grudgingly. "If he transforms into an abomination again, however . . ."

"He won't," Brianna promised, even though she couldn't be sure, of course. She hurried on from Fenris, moving to Anders' side, casting a healing spell on him as soon as she reached him. She looked up at Mardin as she did so, feeling a fair bit of damage in Anders' head via her healing magic. He shrugged, looking apologetic. "I tried to hold back as much as I could, but I needed to knock him out."

"Well, I think I can fix this," Brianna said at last, her spell continuing as she glanced back at Alistair. "But what will the smite do to him?"

"He likely won't be able to cast spells for an hour or so," Alistair answered. "It's supposed to drain all the magical ability out of a mage, cut them off from the Veil, in essence. I'm not as powerful as a proper Templar, or it probably would only have taken one smite to bring him down. They take lyrium to enhance their abilities, but I've got no interest in getting addicted. Still, I can do some damage. I didn't want to have to do that, but . . ." he shrugged.

"You didn't have a choice," Ayla said gently, and Brianna nodded in agreement as Ayla laid a hand on his arm. "It was either that, or fight him and whatever Justice decided to summon to help."

"I know, but he's still not going to be happy," Alistair said with a sigh.

By this point, Brianna had finished healing the damage done when Anders had been knocked out, and she sat back as the other mage slowly began to awaken, eventually sitting up and blinking at them. "What – what happened? Commander – did you – smite me?" He didn't wait for an answer before he got to his feet, looking agitated. "You promised me you would never do that!"

Alistair looked a little guilty, but he replied evenly, "To be fair, when I made that promise, you weren't possessed by a spirit capable of summoning demons. I did what I had to do. It was that or fight and wound you."

Anders frowned, not looking fully convinced. "Justice wasn't really going to summon demons, was he?"

"I could feel something pulling at the Veil. I don't know for sure what it was, but Justice was definitely summoning something to attack us," Brianna told him. "It really was the best way to make sure no one got badly wounded."

Anders studied her for a moment before looking at the others, who all nodded in agreement, with the exception of Fenris, of course. "Then, thank you, I suppose." He sighed. "I guess no matter how far I run, I can never run from being a Warden, can I?"

Alistair shook his head. "No, I'm afraid you can't."

"Well, let's keep going," Anders said at last. "I think I can hold against him now. Against both of them. I hope so, anyway."

Brianna nodded, relieved that the situation hadn't devolved into a bigger fight, and continued forward along the path circling the base of the tower that they had been following before. The path eventually brought them up to another platform with another seal on it. This one, when opened, revealed another horned guardian which multiplied into six different forms this time. This fight was a good deal harder than the last one, especially as Anders' magic had yet to fully recover, but they were eventually able to prevail. Fenris and Carver were both wounded following this battle, but both wounds were fortunately still within Brianna's abilities. Once she'd made sure they were both okay, she used the staff to absorb the power of the seal once more.

This time, the light was nearly blinding as it passed through the staff into her body, and it was far more painful as the energy rushed and slammed through her body, crackling with power. By the time it was finished, she dropped to her hands and knees on the dais, panting with the effort to bring her body back under control.

"Bree!" Carver was the one who got to her first this time, helping her gently to her feet, though Mardin was right behind him, waiting nearby. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she told him. "It was just a bit difficult this time to absorb the energy, and it hurt a little. But I'm okay now, I promise."

Carver frowned, checking her over. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," she said firmly. After the initial rush of power, her body had recovered and she felt nearly back to normal. "Now let's keep going; I think we're getting close, and I'd like to get this over with." Not only that, but the staff was starting to pull at her again, buzzing as though it were excited, and she was having difficulty resisting the urge to follow it.

Carver nodded, letting go of her, and she headed towards the entrance that had been revealed by the next barrier, Mardin, Carver, and the others following closely behind. The path led to another long, stone bridge, and she could see Larius once more, waiting halfway across it. They had just reached him when the bridge shook beneath their feet and some dust rained down from above.

Larius looked up above them. "He feels the seals weaken. He knows you are close. You must be ready . . ." He suddenly turned around abruptly before Brianna could reply, sounding panicked as he exclaimed, "What's that? Who? No . . . no. They're here."

"Who is here?" Brianna asked. "More of the Carta?"

Alistair shook his head, frowning as he answered before Larius could, "No. There are other Wardens coming."

Larius bobbed his head in agreement, still looking panicked. "Worse than the dwarves. More treacherous, more dangerous. The Wardens. They listen to Corypheus. They want to bring him the light. Stop them. You must stop them!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anybody have any theories as to why Corypheus's voice isn't affecting Alistair like it is Anders? ;) The hints are there if you look! But don't worry, the explanation will be in the next chapter ;).


	19. Corypheus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After meeting the Wardens who have come to free Corypheus, Brianna and the others have a decision to make before they finally face Corypheus and discover his true nature, which leads to many revelations for everyone involved.

Chapter 19: Corypheus

Mardin frowned, sticking close to Brianna's side as he looked forward, towards the tower beyond the bridge they were on, where Larius was staring in horror. Sure enough, a group of four Wardens, all dressed in the blue and silver armor that Alistair and Carver wore (with the exception of the one wearing robes out in front, which were still blue and silver) came marching towards them. The severe-looking woman in the robes who strode in front of the others was clearly a mage, the end of a staff showing over her shoulder, and she was the one who gave Mardin the most pause.

As he'd told Brianna, it was more difficult to sense individual threats down here, as the whole place felt so overwhelmingly dangerous, especially as they got closer to Corypheus, but even still, just looking at this woman's face caused an uncomfortable – and familiar – twinge in his gut. They couldn't trust her. The others in the group didn't bother him, but she appeared to be the leader, and he knew well enough that soldiers following a dangerous leader blindly could be equally capable of terrible things, even if they themselves were decent people. This could be bad. He put his hand to his sword hilt as the new group got closer, the woman saying as she went, "Something's happening. The prison's breaking down. But it's stood up to tunnelling before. What can . . ."

At that precise moment, she finally spotted them – or more precisely, Brianna in front, that wretched staff still in her hand. "You! You have the key! And you've come through the seals. But how? Wait . . . you can't be, can you? You're Hawke, the child of Malcolm?"

"Malcolm Hawke is my father, yes," Brianna answered slowly, clearly uncomfortable after the warning Larius had given them. Who, now that Mardin realized it, appeared to have disappeared again after delivering said warning.

The severe-looking woman nodded, her bright green eyes piercing as she stopped about six feet away from Brianna, the other Wardens ranging themselves behind her. "The Carta said they were close. I am pleased they finally succeeded in bringing you here. I am Janeka. I lead this unit of Grey Wardens."

Alistair chose this moment to step forward on Brianna's other side. "What exactly are you leading them to do?"

Janeka's gaze snapped to him, her eyes widening in brief surprise before she frowned. "The Ferelden Commander? I suppose I should not be surprised to find you in the company of civilians. The better question is what are _you_ doing here? You shouldn't even know about this place, much less be bringing civilians with you into the Deep Roads. Again," she finished derisively.

Alistair shrugged. "It would be hard not to know about this place when I'm already here, wouldn't it? As for the civilians, they were already coming here to find out why the Carta attacked them, as you pointed out. I merely came along to determine if it had anything to do with the Wardens, and it seems it does. So I'll ask you again: why are you here?"

"We don't answer to you," Janeka sneered as the other Wardens looked back and forth between her and Alistair. "You are not _our_ Commander."

"I suppose that's true," Alistair replied, "but oddly enough, I had this strange notion that we were all on the same team. You know, supposedly united against the darkspawn and the Blight and all?"

"If you were meant to know what was going on here, Weisshaupt would have already told you," Janeka snapped. "Instead, it appears you are doing whatever you please, just as you have always done."

Alistair frowned, and Mardin could see the clear scowl on his sister's face as she came up by Alistair, knowing that she would soon be losing her temper at the clear lack of respect Janeka was showing to her mate, but Brianna interrupted before the argument could go any further. "Why are you so interested in my father? Or my brother and I, for that matter?" She gestured to Carver, standing just behind her along with the others.

Janeka turned to look at her, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "Then you don't know? Without Malcolm, this prison would have fallen thirty years ago."

"Let me guess, it had something to do with this?" Brianna asked, holding up that strange staff again.

Janeka nodded. "The Grey Wardens built this prison to contain one of the most powerful darkspawn we've ever encountered. But even the best magic fades. The Wardens need to reinforce the seals. This requires the blood of a mage untainted by . . . Warden training. The last to perform the ritual was your father."

"Impossible," Carver said firmly. "Our father couldn't have been a blood mage. He was very much against it."

"To avert the Blights, forbidden magics are sometimes necessary," Janeka retorted. "Ask your Commander there, what he and his 'hero' friend did to survive the last Blight."

All heads snapped to Alistair at this, who didn't reply to the obvious taunt, though Mardin could see his jaw tighten with obvious anger. Ayla, he saw also, didn't look surprised at the accusation, only angry with Janeka. Mardin had known she hadn't told him everything about this Blight that she and her mate fought, likely because she was keeping some of these Warden secrets that seemed to be everywhere, but he couldn't help but feel a little curious to find out the whole story – and a little disappointed that she hadn't told him, secrets or no. Anders and Carver, he noted, were completely shocked, but Carver recovered quickly, shaking his head. "Forbidden magics might be acceptable for Wardens, but my father knew better."

"He did not bind the demons, if that is your concern," Janeka answered, turning her attention back to Carver and Brianna. "That was done in another era, before the Chantry's laws. Your father merely reinforced the seals."

Brianna sighed. "And since our father is dead, the Carta needs our blood to open the seals. That's why they came after us."

Mardin scowled, rage swirling through him anew at the reminder of the attack by those bloody dwarves. They'd tried to kill her – and Carver – and he would never forget that, or forgive it. And it almost sounded like this Janeka might be in league with the Carta. Certainly she'd been aware of their attempts to come after Brianna - and for that alone he couldn't trust her.

"We need your help, Hawke," Janeka said as Mardin pondered how best to get rid of her without his sister or Brianna getting hurt. "I have done extensive research on this darkspawn and I believe the original Wardens were wrong. He isn't a threat to humanity – he's our greatest opportunity. A darkspawn who can talk, feel, reason . . ."

"Corypheus cares nothing for Blights. He used you!" Larius interrupted, appearing again from wherever he'd run off to this time.

"The Warden Commander!" cried one of the other Wardens, an older warrior with greying hair. He looked shocked and appalled at Larius' appearance, and Mardin couldn't help but wonder if, given the man's age, he had once served under Larius' command.

"Don't listen to this . . . creature," Janeka snarled. "He's half-darkspawn himself. I know how to harness Corypheus, use his magic to end the Blights."

"No, the Wardens knew," Larius said, sounding more firm than Mardin had yet heard him. "Corypheus is too powerful."

"Don't do it, Hawke," Anders added from behind them, where he stood next to Carver. "We've been down this road before with the talking darkspawn. They can't be trusted and they can't be used."

"Worth the risk," Varric disagreed. "If he doesn't help, it's one more big darkspawn to stick a bolt in. No big deal."

Brianna glanced at Mardin, raising her eyebrows in silent question, and he shook his head, keeping his voice low as he murmured, "You can't trust her, or anything she says."

"Anders is right, they're too dangerous," Alistair added. He turned to Janeka. "You might think you can harness his magic, use it to your advantage, but it won't work. It will only make everything worse. I've seen it happen before, when a mage thought they could control something they couldn't."

"Of course you would say that, the Templar Warden Commander," Janeka sneered at him. "You don't understand magic, and you're too frightened to let us use it, even if it means stopping future Blights."

Alistair rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up in obvious frustration. "By Andraste's flaming sword, I am not a Templar! I have some of the training, but I never became one before I joined the Wardens. I am a Warden, first and foremost, or I would not be recruiting mages away from the Templars in the first place. And more than that, I am the Warden Commander of Ferelden, and the only Warden here who has actually fought against a Blight, since you Orlesian Wardens allowed politics to stop you last time there was a Blight. So you should be showing me some respect."

Ayla beamed at her mate with obvious pride, while Janeka glared at him, and Mardin thought once more with a bit of grudging respect that he could see why his sister had picked this man as her equal, even if he didn't like it. Janeka opened her mouth to retort, but before she could, Larius interrupted her once more. "Corypheus calls her, and she listens. She brought him the Carta, sent them for you."

"Of course I did," Janeka snapped. "I need you!"

"You need me or my blood?" Brianna retorted evenly. "They tried to kill me, and my brother, as well as anyone who tried to stop them."

"I gave no such order," Janeka said.

Brianna frowned at her, as Mardin tightened his grip on his sword hilt, certain the woman was lying. "So you say. Besides, how could you trust any deal some ancient darkspawn makes with you?"

"Do not think me foolish, Hawke," Janeka replied. "I am making no deal. I have a spell which can control Corypheus, bind him to my will. He will be a new, important weapon in the war on the Blights. No more, no less."

Fenris snorted. "How like a mage to resort to any justification for using blood magic."

Janeka glared at him. "There is no way to avoid using blood magic in this case, even if I wished to. The Wardens imprisoned Corypheus before the Chantry banned such magic. It is the only way to hold him."

"You're not helping the case for releasing him," Carver pointed out. "Father would not want this."

Even as he was saying this, Brianna turned to Mardin, asking in a low voice, "You're positive? I can't trust her?"

Mardin nodded firmly. "She can't be trusted, I'm sure of it. Even if she's right about Larius being half-darkspawn, he's the one that I feel is more trustworthy. If she wants Corypheus free, it's not for the right reasons."

"Okay." Brianna turned to Janeka, raising her voice as she faced the other mage down. "Corypheus may be as great a threat as the next Blight. We can't risk freeing him."

Janeka scowled. "We'll find a way to do this with or without you, Hawke. And as for you," as she turned to Alistair, "you shouldn't be interfering in the business of other Wardens. Did you not say we're all on the same team?"

"It would seem we're not," Alistair replied coolly, "if you are working to keep secrets from myself and the other Fereldan Wardens. And no matter whether we're on the same team, if I think you're doing something you shouldn't be, I'll do what I have to in order to stop you."

"Weisshaupt made a grave mistake, giving you command of the Fereldan Wardens," Janeka said scornfully.

Alistair shrugged, quickly gripping Ayla's arm as Mardin noticed his sister was a moment away from leaping to attack the other Warden. "Well, you're probably not wrong, but it's too late now, isn't it?"

Janeka whirled away, snapping at the three behind her, "This prison will be broken. The Blights will end. Come!" She turned back the way they had come, throwing down flames to block her path even as Mardin raced forward, Brianna at his side.

They both halted abruptly at the wall of flames in front of them, turning to look at the others. Larius was gesturing to them, pointing in the opposite direction where a set of stone stairs led up. "With me. We will beat them to the seal."

He raced towards the stairs, and Mardin and Brianna turned to follow, the others hurrying along behind them. Mardin could hear Merrill saying as they went, "She doesn't seem like a very nice Warden," and Carver's muttered reply of, "No, she really doesn't."

By that point, they had reached the top of the stairs and entered a room, Larius saying as they hurried in, "This . . . this was part of the prison's defenses from centuries ago. Old wards . . . unstable, dangerous. The Wardens had them neutralized. Bringing them back to life will stall Janeka." He pointed to some sort of power switch on the wall to the left.

Brianna nodded and hurried over to activate it, and they moved on once more, following Larius as he led them across another stone bridge to yet another tower. Mardin could see Janeka and the other Wardens on the balcony across the way, Janeka blasting through a barrier that had blocked their path.

"If Larius is right about Corypheus, we're going to have to hurry," Anders muttered from behind them, and Brianna nodded grimly as they all picked up their pace.

In the next room, Larius shouted at them all as they raced in, "Do not touch anything! The old defenses are active again. Very unpredictable, very dangerous."

No sooner had he finished saying that when several hooded Carta dwarves came running in from the other entrance. One pointed at Brianna, crying, "There! That's the one Janeka wants dead!"

Mardin snarled at him, fully ready to rip apart another group of dwarves, as Brianna asked, "You do Janeka's bidding?"

"Janeka shared knowledge of Corypheus with the Carta," the dwarf retorted. "When she releases the Master, we will be rewarded."

Mardin scowled, hearing confirmation of what he'd already suspected about Janeka, and heard Ayla murmur behind him, "See, I told you she couldn't be trusted."

"You were right, love," Alistair replied quietly. "I would have preferred not to fight with my fellow Wardens, but it seems we have no choice."

"So that bitch was responsible for what happened to Gerav, then?" Varric snapped.

Brianna sighed. "It would seem so. It looks like Corypheus did corrupt her, if she's essentially feeding the Carta to him. I don't suppose you'd just get out of our way?" she added hopefully to the dwarves.

The dwarf shook his head, looking at some sort of device on the stone pillar next to him. "We may die here, but we will take you with us."

"No, don't!" Larius shouted, but it was too late.

The dwarf had already raced forward, swatting at the device, even as a bolt from Bianca flew towards him, piercing him in the shoulder. The pillar spun around, and one of the glowing orange barriers popped up in the doorway the dwarves had just entered from. The dwarf grimaced, pulling his sword even with the bolt still hanging out of his shoulder, shouting, "To arms, and pray that Corypheus honors our sacrifice!"

Mardin had drawn his sword, and put himself between Brianna and the onrushing dwarves, Carver and the others moving to join him. Mardin brought the first dwarf, the one Varric had already wounded, down with two brutal strokes, and moved on to the next, quite happy to take his rage out on them. Though several dwarves had been trapped in the room with them, the fight was over quite quickly, almost too much so for Mardin's taste. He hadn't quite worked through all his fury yet at hearing Janeka wanted Brianna, in particular, dead. He would be the one to kill that woman the next time he saw her, he vowed to himself.

Brianna came up and laid a hand on his arm, and somehow the remaining rage seemed to drain right out of him again. He sometimes found it unnerving, the way she affected him. Like last night, when he'd held her while they slept. He had found it surprisingly comforting, and she had done an excellent job of reassuring him about his worry and fear over his sister's fate. He found the very fact that she could comfort him so easily disturbing, however. He decided not to analyze the matter too deeply, though, since he had plenty of other things to worry about. She smiled up at him. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he reassured her. "Just, ah, annoyed with the whole situation."

Larius stalked past them, staring at the orange barrier. "Trapped! Carta fools, always where they don't belong. This shouldn't have happened."

Brianna turned to him, her hand dropping away from Mardin's arm. "Don't worry, we'll find a way out. We always do, right?" She looked back to the others, smiling, and they agreed in spite of the worry on their faces.

"Hawke's right," Merrill agreed, smiling brightly. "We just have to figure out how to turn the defenses back off, that's all."

Carver smiled at her as Larius paced back and forth, muttering to himself, "Yes, yes. Think. There must be a way. I was here once before, a long time ago." He glanced at the walls and pillars around them, the only things occupying the room other than some unusual streams of orange energy joining some of the pillars. "The magic . . . the magic flows in streams. They must be joined for the way to open. Yes, yes, that's it."

"We have to get all the streams to join together?" Anders asked, and Larius nodded emphatically.

It took several minutes of turning the devices on the pillars and experimenting, but finally they figured out how to get the streams of energy to join each other from one doorway to the other, which caused the barrier to disappear instantly, along with the streams. Larius beamed. "Yes, it worked. Quickly now, we have a ways to go yet."

He ran forward, through the doorway that the dwarves had entered from, and Mardin and the others raced after him. The way led them across a stone bridge, into another series of rooms, where they were attacked by more Carta dwarves, until they finally came into a room where Janeka herself stood across the way. "Did you really think those old wards would stop me?" she demanded, glaring at Larius. "Look at you, barely able to string two thoughts together. You've only made it this far because of Hawke."

"You can still turn away. Do not listen to his voice!" Larius pleaded with her, as Mardin drew his sword and started forward, trying not to draw the mage's attention. He was furious with her, but not stupid.

"You're a fool, Larius, and you should have died here years ago," Janeka snapped. Just as Mardin was only a few feet away from her, a revenant appeared, blasting Larius with its magic, and she fled.

Mardin turned his attention to the revenant instead, especially as a few more had appeared behind it, and by the time their party had fought their way through all the revenants, Janeka was unfortunately long gone. Eventually they were able to follow her over to a set of stairs carved into the mountainside, leading up to a winding path and over to one final tower. The path had led them outside, and night was falling, the moon and stars shining brightly down on them as they made their way towards what appeared to be the final tower, wreathed with more of that orange magical energy.

Janeka stepped out from the side of the open tower before they could enter it, however, stopping Larius from moving forward. "You're too late, Larius." The other three Wardens came out from the other side as the woman continued, "Hand over Hawke, and I'll give you a quick death."

"She has made her choice," Larius replied, not moving from where he stood a little in front of Brianna, "and it was the right one."

Mardin heard Alistair sigh behind him as he reached for his sword, knowing that Janeka would attack soon. "It would seem we have no choice."

"I didn't think we would," Ayla murmured.

"The right choice, or the only choice?" Janeka retorted, seeming not to hear the others. "Malcolm Hawke was not allowed to disagree."

Mardin saw the shock on Brianna's face, saw her eyes widen as Larius' shoulders twitched. "It is the past. It doesn't matter."

"It does to me," Brianna declared, drawing even with Larius. "What does Janeka mean, my father wasn't allowed to disagree? What did you do?"

"How does she know this? Alec, did you tell her?" Larius looked to the grey-haired Warden behind Janeka that had called him Commander before, but the other man didn't answer. Larius turned back to Brianna, explaining slowly, "Malcolm Hawke was reluctant, had to be . . . persuaded. I was Warden Commander. It was my duty. I delivered an ultimatum – help us, or you'll never see her again."

Carver pushed forward, looking furious. "You did what?!"

"You were going to kill our mother?!" Brianna cried, looking horrified, and Mardin felt the sudden urge to go to her side, to comfort her. He tried to quash the feeling, reminding himself that desire was all he could afford to feel for her.

"No, never!" Larius exclaimed, shaking his head. "He came with us. I never had to decide her fate. She was never told about what passed between Malcolm and me."

"That doesn't excuse it!" Carver snapped, and Merrill moved to his side, taking his hand and squeezing it gently.

Janeka smiled smugly, meeting Brianna's gaze. "You see, Hawke? How can you trust anything Larius says?"

This Mardin couldn't let slide, however, and so he allowed himself to cross to Brianna, to take her hand too, telling himself it was because she needed to hear this. She looked up at him, fury sparking in those fabulous eyes of hers, and he whispered to her, "It doesn't matter. Whatever Larius did in the past, he doesn't mean you harm now. Janeka and Corypheus are still the real threats here."

Brianna nodded slowly, giving him a grateful smile before she dropped his hand and turned towards Larius and Janeka again. "Larius's threats were reprehensible, but he's still right about Corypheus. And anyway, after how many times you've sent the Carta to kill me and Carver, why would I ever trust you either?"

Janeka sneered at her. "You can come willingly or not, Hawke. I just need your blood." She gestured to the other Wardens, who all drew their weapons.

Mardin moved quickly in front of Brianna, drawing his sword and readying his shield as Carver pushed Merrill behind him. "You're not getting her blood," Mardin told Janeka coldly. "I'll spill every drop of your blood and those idiots behind you before I let you take one drop of hers – or anyone else's, for that matter."

Alistair came up on Mardin's right, sword and shield at the ready also, Carver armed to his left, and added, "I'd prefer not to fight my fellow Wardens, but you've gone too far on this." He turned quickly to look behind him, waving his hand to move the others back, and Brianna, obviously realizing what he was about to do, pulled further back, moving Merrill and Anders with her.

Mardin was already charging forward, Carver and Fenris with him, the other two moving to meet Alec, the grey-haired Warden, and another Warden that wielded dual swords, while Mardin headed straight for Janeka with single-minded purpose. She was lifting her staff to aim a spell at him, but she suddenly stumbled, and stared past him, her eyes lighting with fury and surprise. Mardin knew that Alistair must have done that smite, or whatever it was he'd done to Anders, and that gave Mardin all the time he needed. He could feel a barrier springing up around him, even as he drove his sword forward at Janeka. She tried to block him with her staff, but his sword simply slammed straight through it, rending it in two, before it thrust straight through her body.

She looked up at him in shock, blood pooling out of her stomach, and raised her hands for presumably another attempt at a spell. "Told you I'd take your blood," he snarled at her, before he viciously bashed her in the side of the head with his shield. She went limp, slipping backwards off his sword, and he followed, taking one final stroke with his sword, just to make sure.

He turned to look for the other three Wardens, but saw that it wasn't needed; the archer among the group was already down from what appeared to be a combination of magic and Varric's bolts, while Alec and the other Warden had fallen to Carver, Fenris and the others.

Larius moved forward as soon as Janeka's Wardens had all fallen, gesturing to the room beyond. Though the tower bore a roof, the sides were largely open to the elements, other than the pillars that held up the roof. Orange magic flowed from four locations around the outer edge, all supplying magic to a large orange barrier in the midst of the room. "He stirs," Larius said, gesturing to the barrier. "Slay him now, before he wakes. Before his strength comes. The key. It's not strong enough. Use your blood. Free him and slay him."

Brianna had come up next to him, staring at the barrier beyond, and now she turned back to look at all of them. "Is everybody ready for this?"

Mardin nodded along with the others. "We need to finish this. I'm ready." He hefted his sword and shield, which he had yet to put away.

"He won't stop coming after us unless we do this," Carver added. "And we can't have him influencing more Wardens to break him free."

Brianna took a deep breath. "You're right." She moved to the first of the pillars that seemed to be the source of one of the streams of magical energy, Carver moving with her, and the two siblings used their blood on the key before touching it to the seal. The stream of energy disappeared, and they moved to each of the three remaining barriers, repeating the process, while Mardin waited with the others a few feet away from the circular barrier in the centre. Larius, Mardin noted, was staying back, keeping outside of the tower room altogether as he watched.

Once the barrier had finally disappeared, there was nothing but an empty, raised circular dais in the middle of the room. Brianna went to this last, Carver just behind her, and dripped more of her blood into the centre of the circle. The stone below her immediately began to light up with energy, flowing upwards from the centre, and Brianna let go of the key, which was pulled into the light and hovered there, glowing with light before it suddenly exploded. The resulting explosion knocked both Carver and Brianna backwards, off the circle and onto the stone floor beyond. Mardin controlled the urge to rush to her side, instead remaining in a ready stance, watching the circle, and saw Brianna scramble to her feet along with Carver, moving to join them as the light disappeared. She pulled out her own staff, which had remained strapped to her back all this time, as she did so, and Carver unsheathed his sword as well, as they all stared at the circle with bated breath.

And finally, from the centre of the stone circle, the most horrifying creature Mardin had ever seen rose up. It looked somewhat like a combination of an abomination and a revenant, skeletal and twisted, wearing odd spiky armor and robes, with spikes of some sort stuck into its withered face. All flesh appeared to have been sucked dry on its – his? – body, stretched taut over ancient bones. The thing opened its lipless mouth, and a weird, deep, echoing voice boomed out. "Be this some dream I wake from? Am I in dwarven lands? Why seem their roads so empty? You!" He pointed one claw-like, skeletal hand at Brianna, where she now stood next to Mardin. "Serve you at the temple of Dumat? Bring me hence! I must speak with the first acolyte!"

"He . . . feels almost like an archdemon," Alistair murmured behind Mardin, "but not quite the same. I've never felt anything like this before. And to speak of Dumat . . ."

"Dumat . . ." Anders supplied for him in a low voice, sounding shocked, "was the first Old God to become an archdemon. There haven't been temples to him since ancient Tevinter."

"You look human," Corypheus went on, still studying Brianna, Mardin and Carver out front, obviously not seeing the two elves and the dwarf in the back of the group just yet. "Are you not citizens of the Empire? Slaves then, to the dwarves? Why come you here? Whoever you be, you owe fealty to any magister of Tevinter. On your knees! All of you!" He pointed imperiously at them.

"I will bow to no magister!" Fenris snarled from the back. "Not ever again!"

"You're no magister, anyway," Brianna added, staring up at the creature in front of them. "Not anymore. You're a darkspawn. Dark . . . spawn . . . ravaging the Deep Roads, spreading the Blight. Does this ring a bell?"

Corypheus stared down at her. "You are what held me. I smell the blood in you." Before she could answer, he turned and looked at the night sky through the open side of the tower. "Dumat! Lord! Tell me. What waking dream is this? The light. We sought the golden light. You offered . . . the power of the gods themselves. But it was . . . black . . . corrupt. Darkness . . . ever since. How long?" He bowed his head as he finished.

"The Golden City," Larius said, from where he still stood outside of the room itself. "The first violation. The magisters who brought the Blight."

"Maker," Alistair muttered, sounding shocked. "Is he really one of them? But that was so long ago . . ."

Mardin glanced behind him at the others, wondering what Alistair was referring to; he only had a vague recollection of what Varric had told him regarding the Blight and darkspawn. Anders, however, obviously understood, for he whirled to look at his former Commander in shock, exclaiming, "That's ridiculous! That can't really be true! There were no magical bogeymen who trespassed in the Maker's city. It's a story. It's Chantry propaganda."

Ayla shook her head slowly, looking regretful. "Sorry, Anders. I have it on really good authority that the story is true. They disobeyed the laws of the universe, and wrecked the balance, pushing this world towards darkness. It's what caused the Blight."

"Did you hear this from the Goddess?" Mardin asked her, surprised. He remembered how Cranin had talked about keeping this world from slipping further into darkness, and knew that the Messenger received his information directly from the Goddess Herself. Only She could know that this story of the origin of this world's darkness was true.

Ayla nodded. "I forgot to tell you before, but yes. She sent Father's spirit to me, during the Blight. He told me a number of things She had told him, but one of them was that the story of the darkspawn's origins is true. That violation is why this world is locked away from their Maker."

All of their party had whirled to look at Ayla in shock by this point, except for Alistair, who had clearly heard this before. Brianna looked nearly as shocked and horrified as Anders as she whispered, "So . . . the Chantry's teachings about mankind's hubris – a mage's hubris - bringing down the Blight . . . are correct?"

Ayla nodded again, looking reluctant. "I wouldn't say all their teachings are correct, but about the origin of the darkspawn . . . they're right." She looked between the mages in the group as she added softly, "That doesn't make all mages responsible for the actions of those few, though."

Fenris snorted. "There are some who may disagree with you on that."

Before Brianna or anyone else could reply to that – Mardin was thinking he might have to knock some sense into the elf, as much as he liked him otherwise, for the way he'd just made Brianna look – the magister or darkspawn or whatever it was spoke up again. "What manner of speech is this? How long have I slumbered?"

No one had an answer for him, of course, but Larius said, his voice tinged with shock and wonder, "He tainted the world. He speaks to all who carry the corruption. Darkspawn. Wardens. He brought Janeka here. Brought you . . ."

"If he's been calling the Wardens to free him, what's his plan?" Brianna demanded, her hands on her hips as she looked back at Larius. "He seems pretty confused, like he doesn't even know what's going on."

"He slept," Larius explained, still peering around the corner of the doorway. "While the seals held, he could not wake. He knows nothing of time that passed. We must kill him now. Before he comes to."

Mardin nodded. The more that creature spoke, the more his instincts reacted. The hairs were rising on the back of his neck, the bear growling and snarling within him at the threat posed by Corypheus, and, though he was ashamed to admit it, his instincts were telling him to run. Not that he would. "I agree. He's very dangerous." He looked to his little sister. "He's what we were feeling this whole time – that incredible danger."

Ayla shuddered, pressing a hand to her stomach, looking a little green. "And there's so much corruption in him – it's so unnatural . . . ugh."

"Time to stick a bolt in this really big darkspawn then, right, Hawke?" Varric asked, prepping Bianca.

She nodded in agreement as Mardin turned back to the creature, readying his stance. "Right. Our father sealed him away, and we're going to kill him."

"The city! It was supposed to be golden! It was supposed to be ours!" Corypheus cried, as he somehow floated higher up into the air above the dais. "If I cannot leave with you, I will leave through you! I seek the light!"

And then he called on Dumat, blasting powerful flames down on them. Brianna and the other two mages threw up shields, but couldn't seem to hold them – the resulting ricochet of magic sent them all flying back. Fortunately, it did temporarily dissipate the flames, too, and Mardin scrambled to his feet, determined to get close enough to deal some damage. Fenris got there first, however; a blur of infuriated light, dodging and swinging and attacking the magister as he floated just above the ground. Mardin hurried to help him, Carver along with him, but it seemed Coryphues had some sort of barrier around him; their swords clanged off uselessly.

"Can you smite him?" Mardin heard Brianna shout behind him as a blast of magic blew the three of them back.

"I tried!" Alistair shouted back. "I don't think he even felt it!"

"He keeps a barrier around him!" Fenris growled, scrambling to his feet and charging forward again, glowing all the while.

"I'll try to dispel it, then!"

It was the most difficult fight Mardin had ever been in. He, Fenris, and Carver worked to keep Corypheus enraged and focused on them – while simultaneously trying not to get burned, electrocuted, frozen, or crushed by the powerful elemental magic the magister wielded. Anders and Brianna did their best to keep defensive and regenerative spells on them so they didn't get too badly wounded, and Varric kept endlessly firing bolts. It hadn't taken too long for them to realize that the magister's barrier and much of his magic came from the statues around the tower room, and so Ayla, Merrill and Alistair moved from statue to statue, destroying them. Once the statue that was helping to power the magister's barrier came down, Mardin and the others were finally able to begin actually striking blows at the creature.

As soon as this happened, however, it seemed like Corypheus' magic became even more powerful. Stones burst up through the tower floor, chunks of ice rained down from the roof, fire and lightning twisted and raged through the room, and Corypheus himself floated around, working to keep out of their range. It was like Mardin imagined the depths of the Pit must be, as he frantically scrambled through, trying to avoid the magic, keep everyone he could see safe, and reach the magister. He had just finally tracked him down again when Fenris phased through a spike of rock just behind Corypheus and hamstringed him, bringing the magister down to his knees as the elf snarled, "I will make you kneel!"

Mardin had been waiting for just such an opportunity, particularly as Corypheus was now entirely focused on Fenris, whirling to roar at him in fury. Mardin pounced, slamming his sword home through the creature's withered back, out through the front of his chest. Corypheus shrieked, and Fenris dodged one last lightning bolt before lopping off the magister's head. Mardin yanked his sword out, and the skeletal body flopped to the ground as the head rolled away, some sort of black cloud rising from the body and dissipating through the air.

Mardin wrinkled his nose in disgust. Ayles was right; the unnatural corruption of this thing was enough to turn his stomach. "Was that from the corruption?"

"Perhaps." Fenris frowned. "I suggest we do not linger too close to the body, just in case."

"Right." Mardin nodded, turning and looking for the others. The stones around the room were disappearing, now that the magic that had powered them was gone, and all of the elemental magic that had raged through the room had vanished as well. He smiled in relief when he saw Brianna kneeling next to Carver, healing the burns he'd taken just before Mardin and Fenris had found the magister.

Anders and Varric were several feet away, Anders healing the bruises Varric had taken from falling ice chunks. Mardin looked around, and finally saw Merrill, Ayla and Alistair approaching from the opposite side of the room, where they had just destroyed another of the statues before the end of the fight. Merrill ran over to Carver, dropping on her knees next to him and fussing over him as Brianna finished up her spell.

Mardin watched closely as his sister and Alistair followed at a more sedate pace, trying to note if Ayla had taken any wounds. She seemed to be fine, but when they were only about ten feet or so away, she suddenly swayed before her knees gave out and she pitched forward. Alistair caught her, but Mardin was already halfway across the distance before he'd even registered that. He skidded to a stop next to his sister, crouching down as worry thundered through him, Alistair settling her carefully into a sitting position.

"What is it?" Mardin demanded, looking her over for wounds, not seeing any significant ones but noting the absolute pallor of her skin, her freckles standing out in relief against the whiteness, and the exhaustion in her gaze.

"No, it's nothing, I'm fine," she told him hastily, though she didn't move from leaning against Alistair. "I'm just exhausted, that's all. It was a tiring fight."

Alistair looked stricken as he pulled her closer, his face drawn with worry and fear. "Ayla, love, you shouldn't have – "

But Mardin cut him off, as sudden understanding caused rage to burst through every part of his body. "She shouldn't have what? Shouldn't have given her strength to you through the bond so you could keep Corypheus out of your head?! You're fucking right she shouldn't have!"

He had suspected it, all along since the first moment Alistair and Anders had been affected by the voice of Corypheus. At the very start, they had been affected equally, but it hadn't taken long before Alistair had shaken it off, and each time since, he'd been hardly affected at all, while Anders had gotten worse and worse. And Ayla had grown pale each time, making Mardin wonder if his sister wasn't using the bond to grant Alistair some of her strength so that he would not be affected. And now? Now he knew for sure, especially when Alistair blanched at his words and Ayla looked suddenly guilty.

"You're pregnant!" he snapped at his sister. "You're already sharing your strength with your child, you bloody well shouldn't be sharing it with him too! And _you_ ," he snarled, turning all his fury on her idiot mate, the cause of all this. "You shouldn't have let her endanger herself like that! Or your child!"

"You think I wanted her to?!" Alistair exclaimed, looking equally angry and irritated himself. "I told her not to, but she insisted!"

"Then you should have argued more with her!" The rage was twisting and roaring through him as he got to his feet, his fists clenched; the bear was infuriated, and Mardin was in full agreement with it. "You're supposed to protecting her, not endangering her more!"

"Mardy, stop!" Ayla moved to try to get to her feet, and Alistair instantly sprang up, lifting her to her feet with him. "He's my mate, and we protect each other! He doesn't endanger me!"

"Look at you!" Mardin roared, worry still pulsing through him just below the rage as he saw how pale she remained. "You nearly passed out from exhaustion because of him! You need to stop her from being so reckless, especially now!" he fired at Alistair over her head.

"If I could, I would!" Alistair snapped back at him. "And just where do you think she learned to be so reckless in the first place?!"

And he couldn't take it anymore; the rage was too much. Ayla had stepped away from Alistair's supporting arm, so Mardin moved around her, his normally quick sister not moving fast enough to stop him, just one more infuriating sign of how exhausted she was, and he punched Alistair right in the face, not holding anything back. The other man went over backwards with a clang of armor, clearly startled by the force of the punch, though he scrambled back to his feet almost immediately, looking furious. Mardin moved to hit him again anyway, though he suspected that Alistair was about to punch _him_ , but suddenly Ayla was there between them, and they both halted abruptly, neither willing to endanger her.

She looked more furious than Mardin had ever seen her, and her eyes flashed yellow at him as she shrieked, "What in the Fox's name is wrong with you, Mardin?! Do you realize what you just did?! If anybody – _anybody_ – other than you had just done that, I would've already ripped their bloody throat out! And if you _ever_ offer such insult to my mate again, I may not be able to stop myself! Don't you _dare_ try to make me pick between the two of you!"

The shock of her words was like a well-delivered punch to Mardin's own face. He nearly reeled back with the force of it, especially with the realization that he'd almost caused her to lose control of her shifting – while she was pregnant and already exhausted, no less. The dangers of _that_ , he realized with sudden shame, far exceeded any danger Alistair might have put her in just now. "Ayles, that's not what I was trying to do – I – "

"Wasn't it?" she interrupted him, her voice vibrating with fury, though she seemed to have calmed down somewhat, the yellow gone from her eyes. Alistair had moved up behind her as well, his arm around her once more, and that seemed to have calmed her down the most. "You've been trying to pick a fight with him all along, provoking him at every turn, accusing him of putting me in danger, when you know full well I do that all on my own. And you punched him at full strength, I know you did. I felt it through the bond, that's how hard you hit him."

Mardin flinched. He'd been so frightened and so furious that he hadn't stopped to think about pain being shared through the bond too – and he'd hurt his little sister, the last thing he'd _ever_ wanted to do. He might as well have punched her, too. And – she'd called him Mardin, a few moments ago. Not Mardy. He couldn't even remember the last time she'd done that. He didn't know how to fix it. "Ayles – I – Goddess – I don't even –"

Brianna was suddenly there at his side, threading her hand through his and tugging on it. "Mardin, can I talk to you for a moment in private?" He nodded dazedly, hoping she had some way of helping him fix this, as Brianna turned to Ayla, saying softly, "I'll borrow him for a moment, and after that I think you and Mardin should talk alone, too. I think you have some things to settle."

Ayla looked surprised, but she nodded in agreement with Brianna's words, and Mardin felt a bit of relief penetrate his daze as he followed Brianna across the room, well away from Ayla, Alistair and the others. He noted that Anders had moved to help Ayla as soon as he'd finished with Varric, and was already casting rejuvenating magic on her, making him let out a shaky breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. She'd been so pale, after all.

Brianna stopped finally, well out of even his sister's earshot, and let go of his hand, turning to face him, her gaze serious as she looked up at him. "I've asked you this once before, but I'll repeat it again: why do you hate your sister's husband so much?"

"I don't," Mardin protested, realizing how unlikely that sounded even as he said it, and even as Brianna raised her eyebrows doubtfully. "I realize how that sounds, given what just happened, but I don't, really. I think I might even like him if he wasn't mated to my sister. He just . . . makes me so angry, is all. He puts her in danger."

Brianna shook her head. "As your sister so accurately pointed out, she puts herself in danger. She's rather like you, actually." Mardin flinched again at this; Alistair's statement about where Ayla learned her recklessness had really struck home. _Had_ Ayla learned to be reckless from him? Was it, in fact, more his fault that she was like that? But Brianna was continuing on, oblivious to his distress, "But yes, some of the danger that she puts herself in is because of him. As I imagine he puts himself in danger because of her. They love each other, so yes, that can be dangerous on the battlefield. Just like you would put yourself in danger for your sister because you love her, or like I nearly got myself bit by a dragon because I was worried about Carver, before you stepped in. But they also protect each other, and may I point out, they're both still alive, in spite of having been through many dangerous battles before you got here."

Mardin scowled, some of the anger stirring within him again. "Don't remind me." That was another thing that never failed to anger him; the reminder that he had been unable to protect his sister for the three years they'd been separated. Or how many times she must have been in danger during those years.

"See, that's part of the problem right there," Brianna said softly, taking his hand once more and squeezing it. And he let her, because it made him feel better, for reasons he refused to examine. "You still think it's your job to protect her, in spite of the fact that she's obviously done fine on her own, and with Alistair. You're the one that helped me see that Carver was old enough to take care of himself, and make his own decisions. You need to realize the same about your sister, now. And stop being jealous of Alistair."

"I am not jealous of him!" Mardin spluttered, horrified. "I've never even thought of Ayla in that way – "

"Of course not," Brianna interrupted him, looking exasperated as she rolled her eyes. "That's not what I meant. The two of you were obviously close, before she disappeared, and you thought it was your job to look after her, to protect her, to be there when she needed somebody. Isn't that why you came here to find her?" He'd only just managed to nod when she continued, "But when you found her, she had Alistair, and I think you believe, deep down, that she doesn't need you anymore if she has him. That's why he really makes you angry."

Mardin gaped at her, astonished. Was she right? Was that really why even the sight of his sister's mate made him angry? Because he didn't want to be angry at him, not anymore. He'd finally realized during the argument just now that it would only continue to put him at odds with Ayla, and he absolutely didn't want that. Because they _had_ always been close, and especially after Father died, they had been all each other had to truly rely on. And, Mardin realized, part of him had thought it would always be that way, since neither of them had planned to mate for life. So, yes, he'd followed after Ayla because he thought she would need him, and, he conceded, because he needed her. She was all the family he had left, and his main purpose in life had always been looking after her. And yes, he'd found her, only to find that she was, indeed, doing just fine without him – was, in fact, happier than she'd been at home.

"You're right." He gave a hollow sort of laugh, feeling suddenly numb at the realizations flooding him. "And apparently, I am, too. She doesn't need me anymore."

"Don't be an idiot!" Brianna snapped, looking suddenly furious, letting go of his hand to shove at his chest, her violet eyes sparking magnificently. "Of course she still needs you! She just doesn't need you to protect her anymore, that's all! And that would be true with or without Alistair. She needs you to support her, love her, and be her family. And just because she's creating a new family, doesn't mean she no longer needs her brother. It just means that you have more family as well."

Mardin blinked at her, astonished once more. He'd not really thought of it that way at all. He'd said the words to his sister, that her taking a life-mate meant he had a brother, but he'd never really thought about it. Nor had he ever really thought about what her being pregnant meant for him, either. But – "I'm going to be an uncle," he murmured, dazed at the thought.

Brianna smiled at him. "So it would seem." He stared at her in surprise again, eyebrows shooting up, as Ayla had never told the others they travelled with that she was pregnant. Brianna shrugged. "You were shouting quite loudly before. I'm sure everybody overheard you yelling about her being pregnant. I'd guessed already, though, why you and Alistair were keeping her off the front lines and being extra protective. Just try to be a better uncle than Gamlen, will you?"

Mardin snorted, unable to help himself as amusement passed through him. "You're not setting very high standards for me, are you?"

"Well," she patted his arm reassuringly, smiling again, "if you do as good a job as you did taking care of your sister while she grew up, I'm sure you'll be an amazing uncle. But maybe it's time you tried just being a regular brother, and not an overprotective older brother?"

"I'm not sure I know how to do that," he admitted. He glanced over his shoulder at Ayla, noting that Anders had finished healing her, and she now spoke to Alistair alone. "You're sure she still needs me?"

Brianna took both of his hands in hers and squeezed them again as he looked back at her, seeing how soft her expression had grown. "I'm positive. Now how about you go talk to her? She'll tell you the same, I'm sure. So long as you explain to her why you've been reacting that way."

"Okay," he agreed. He squeezed her hands gently in turn. "Thank you. I needed someone to talk some sense into me."

Brianna grinned. "Well, I did owe you. Now come on."

She steered him back over to Ayla, leaving him facing his sister when she walked away, back towards the others who had gathered on the far side of the room, Alistair following her after a quick glance between him and Ayla. Mardin took a deep breath, looking down at his little sister, who stood with her arms crossed, watching him expectantly. At least her color was back, and she didn't look so exhausted anymore, thanks to Anders.

"I'm sorry, Ayles," he said at last. "I'm so sorry. And I'll apologize to Alistair, too. I was just . . . I was so frightened that something might happen to you, and it made me angry. And . . . Brianna helped me realize I was jealous, too. That I thought, now that you had a life-mate, you didn't need me anymore. And that made me angry, too, I suppose."

Ayla was gaping up at him now, clearly surprised, before she whacked him on the chest. "Mardy, don't be an idiot!" she exclaimed. "Of course I still need you! You're my brother! I just don't need you protecting me from my mate, that's all! Or taking care of me," she added. "I'm quite old enough to do that on my own, you know. I just need my brother back. Someone to talk to, and laugh with. Someone who knows about Father, and home, and shifting, and everything that no one here could ever understand. I missed _you_ this whole time," she finished, looking up at him with a wry smile. "I didn't miss your shield."

Mardin felt relief and gratitude wash through him at Ayla's words and the fact that Brianna had been right as he scooped his little sister up into a hug. "Ayles, I missed you so much," he muttered into her hair, holding her tightly. "I'm sorry I've been such an ass. Three years is far too long."

"Way too long," she mumbled into his chest in agreement, her voice sounding a little broken. She cleared her throat, leaning back and looking up at him, tears sparkling in her eyes. "Sorry. Being pregnant apparently makes me extra emotional."

"So I definitely shouldn't be pissing you off right now?" he teased her, suddenly feeling incredibly light-hearted, as though a heavy burden had been lifted off his shoulders.

She grinned. "Definitely not." She squirmed and he set her down as she looked up at him, suddenly far more serious as she planted her hands on her hips. "And you are done provoking Alistair, right? Because if you try to make me choose between the two of you – "

"I won't," he promised hastily, holding his hands up. "I promise. I think, now that I know why I was so angry at him, and that I don't need to be, I can finally stop being angry. I will still be worried about you and the bond, but there's not much I can do about that."

She frowned. "Why does the bond worry you so much, anyway? There are a lot of benefits to it. I know you weren't happy about me using my strength to help Alistair with Corypheus, but surely you see it was better than having him and Anders losing it. And if I'm not feeling well, he can help me the same way."

He sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair. "I've never told you this, but maybe it's time that I did." After all, as both Ayla and Brianna had told him, she wasn't a child anymore that needed protection. So he told her: everything their father had gone through when their mother died, and just how changed he had been afterwards. "He was broken, Ayles. Like a shell of himself."

"Of course he was," she replied simply, causing Mardin to stare at her in surprise. She shrugged. "Come on, Mardy, the bond might have made it a little worse, especially physically, but he still would have loved Mother deeply no matter what. She was his life-mate – losing her was always going to break him and change him. Trust me, I know. Before we'd ever bonded, I thought I'd lost Alistair, and it was like my heart had been ripped out of my chest. The bond won't change that. If I lose him, I'll never be the same. Just like I wasn't when Father died, though not quite on the same scale, I suppose. And just like I won't be if _you_ die." Her voice cracked a little, and she whacked him on the chest again. "So try not to be so reckless, would you?"

"I'll try, as long as you promise the same," he told her, smiling slightly. "When did you get so wise, anyway?" For her words had managed to make him feel better about her bond – not totally better, but she did have a point.

"I've always been wise," she teased him, grinning. When he shook his head at her, smirking, she went on, "Probably sometime in the last three years. I've learned a lot, you know."

"I can see that." And he could – she had grown up while they were separated, and he couldn't help but be proud of her.

"Good, I'm glad you're finally realizing I'm the smart one." She smirked at him when he rolled his eyes at her, though he couldn't help smiling too, relieved that things were okay between them once more. She turned him around, pushing him in the direction the others were. "Let's go join everyone else, and find somewhere to sleep for the night. I'm exhausted, and it's a long way back to Kirkwall."

"So it is," Mardin agreed. They made their way back over to the others, who were now gathered at the entrance to the tower, talking amongst themselves and waiting. Larius, Mardin noted, was nowhere in sight.

"Where did Larius go?" Ayla asked before he could.

"He's going to report back to the Orlesian Wardens," Anders explained. "Tell them what happened here, with Corypheus and Janeka. Apparently Corypheus's death made him more . . . himself again."

"Well, that's good," Ayla said, darting a glance at Alistair, who nodded, smiling slightly.

"We should find somewhere better to rest. Ayla's exhausted, and frankly so am I," Mardin admitted.

"We should," Brianna agreed. "Let's head back, try to find somewhere a little more sheltered where we can rest."

She began to head forward, the others trailing behind her, though Mardin gestured to Alistair to stay behind for a moment. He did, though he looked curious, wary, and a little angry all at once, not that Mardin blamed him.

"I'm sorry," Mardin said without preamble. "I was an ass. I was terrified for Ayla, and that made me angry, and I needed someone to blame. You were handy. I promise not to do it again, and I hope we can start over, on the right foot this time." He wasn't about to explain all his reasons for being angry; he didn't know Alistair that well, after all. Still, he hoped the apology would be enough, as he held his hand out.

"You were an ass," Alistair agreed, making Mardin smile in spite of himself, "but I can understand why. So, yes, we can start over." He took Mardin's hand, shaking it. "Nice to meet you, I'm Alistair. Your sister married me for some reason."

Mardin grinned, shaking his hand in turn, this time without squeezing it with all his strength. "I'm Ayla's brother, Mardin. And I think she said she loves you, or something like that."

Alistair smiled. "I'm still not sure how that happened, but it's good to know. We should probably catch up to her, though."

They moved to follow the others, but as they walked, the two of them actually talked for the first time – and Mardin no longer felt inexplicably angry with Alistair. He owed Brianna more than he could ever say, he realized, for helping him figure out what his issue was before he'd pushed away his sister altogether. For that, and many other reasons, he would focus all his energy on helping her with whatever she needed when they returned to Kirkwall. That – and finding his destiny – would now be his main purpose in life.


	20. Messages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brianna gets some interesting mail and a present from Mardin before being summoned by the Viscount. Viscount Dumar informs her the Arishok wants to speak to her, and the conversation leads her down a dangerous road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Act 2 finally begins in this chapter, and I did decide to do a small time jump of about 6 months. I didn't really want to go much longer than that, but I figured I should have somewhat of a time jump for story-telling purposes, and that seemed like a good enough length of time for me. Anyway, in my timeline, the Hawkes have been in Kirkwall for a little over three years by the start of this chapter, and the Qunari for about two years. Also, after finally playing the Trespasser DLC, I discovered sending crystals were a thing, and decided to adopt them for this story, as I'd already wanted the Wardens to have a fast way of messaging each other, and that is apparently canon. I figure my Fereldan Wardens are smart enough to get ahold of them or figure out how to make their own ;). Oh, and there is a bit of smut in this one, you should be able to tell where it starts and skip down to the next break if you don't wish to read it. Hope everyone enjoys! And the more people comment, the more motivation I will have to keep going with chapters, so please let me know what you think!

Chapter 20: Messages

Brianna made her way back to Gamlen's house wearily, as she was nearing the end of another long day, the sun dipping low towards the horizon. When she entered, she was relieved to see that her uncle was not there – off at the Blooming Rose, no doubt. Mother, she knew, was likely still at the mansion, overseeing the repairs and refurbishment. A month ago, Brianna had finally convinced the Viscount to hear her petition, and he'd granted her and Mother the Amell estate – and the title that came with it. Not that Brianna cared about that, of course. She was simply happy that she could give Mother a better life and better place to live, and her childhood home back. It would also help that neither of them would ever have to work again if they didn't want to, with Varric busily peddling off the treasure he'd had brought back from the vault they'd found in the Deep Roads, before giving Brianna her half of the profits.

Of course, Brianna had never found herself the type to sit still and do nothing, so she fully intended to keep working whatever jobs she felt like doing to help Kirkwall. It was just nice not to have to scrape for every silver and bronze piece, and to be able to pick the jobs she wanted. With that in mind, she gathered up the pile of mail lying on a side table and sat down at the equally rickety kitchen table to read through it.

There wasn't a lot of import in the stack; the usual escort or delivery jobs, nothing especially important. It had been much the same for the last six months since the incident with Corypheus. The Qunari had been quiet, neither making a move to leave nor making a move to stir things up; Varric, much to his annoyance, had still been unable to find the least bit of information about Bartrand and the idol; and even Brianna's own forays into finding out more about the Calling had not borne much fruit. She'd begun to wonder if Mardin's assertion that she had some sort of important destiny wasn't wrong.

With that in mind, along with how quiet everything had been, she'd finally convinced Mardin three months ago to go visit his sister in Ferelden. Ayla, of course, had left for Ferelden only a few days after they'd returned to Kirkwall, along with Alistair and Carver, and so the only news had been the infrequent letters from both their siblings, sent along on ships from Ferelden. With Ayla due to give birth soon, Brianna had convinced Mardin he should go to visit there, and be there for her when she gave birth, as he was quite literally Ayla's only family in all the world, and she should have as much support as possible at such a time. Plus, she'd told him, it was not every day one became an uncle for the first time, and he should be there when it happened.

He had finally, reluctantly agreed, torn between his duty to figure out his destiny here and his desire to spend time with his sister, Brianna knew. He'd been very adamant that she contact him at the first sign something was about to go wrong, however, or the instant Varric got news of Bartrand. She had, of course, promised, but as none of that had occurred in the last three months, she'd had no reason to call him back yet.

So, in the end, she'd had to resign herself to infrequent letters from both her brother and her lover, for the ships between Ferelden and Kirkwall took a good two weeks each way. She would send a letter to the both of them, and it would take two weeks to get there, and another two weeks for their replies to come back. Carver's were often more infrequent, as unlike Mardin, he wasn't there to visit, and so sometimes he would be away on a mission. Fortunately, Mardin or even sometimes Ayla would keep her updated on her brother's movements, as Ayla had been (quite unhappily, Mardin told her) largely confined to the Keep for the last few months of her pregnancy, and since the baby had been born, as well.

Therefore, Brianna wasn't all that surprised to find a letter from Ayla towards the bottom of her pile of mail. She opened up the letter and read through; the first part was much the same as always, a rundown of how things were going at the Keep, where Carver had been and that he'd just gotten back, how both Alistair and her new baby girl were doing, that sort of thing. It was the last part of the letter that caught Brianna's attention the most.

_No one knows Mardin better than I do. So I can see, even if he can't (or is denying it) that he is more serious about you than he claims. Though there are plenty of beautiful women here, he has not paid attention to any of them. I'm not sure he even sees them, and that is not the brother I knew back in Fallor. He does, however, talk of you often. And before, so far as I know, he never went a month without a woman in his bed, let alone three months._

_I hope you were serious about wanting to make him happy, for I am now certain you are the only woman who can. I would simply ask that you be patient with him, as Alistair was with me, and keep things simple until he is ready to accept how he feels. It may take him some time to realize what he feels, or to stop being frightened of it, as it did for me. I promise you, however, that he is well worth the wait._

Brianna set the letter down, surprised but pleased at the contents. In her last letter to Ayla (which she'd made the other woman promise not to show Mardin, of course) she'd told her that she'd definitely decided she wanted to take Ayla up on her advice. The separation from Mardin had made her realize just how much she missed having him around, not just in her bed but in her life in general. It had made her realize she did want to pursue a more serious and hopefully permanent relationship with Mardin, depending on how things went, but as she'd told Ayla, she was not at all sure Mardin would feel the same way.

Though, it was true, he had not said anything about stopping their relationship during the last six months, even though they had been apart for the last three, neither had he said anything about changing their relationship in any way, or given her any indication that he was developing more serious feelings for her. Of course, she hadn't pushed him, either, content with how things had been following their return from the Vimmark Mountains, when they'd spent nearly every night in bed together, and had simply enjoyed each other's company during most of the days when they weren't otherwise occupied. She'd been surprised at how much fun she was having with him, laughing together and teasing one another, and she hadn't wanted to do anything to change any of that. So, she had not brought up the tenuous status of their relationship, and neither had he.

But now, it seemed, Mardin's own sister was quite confident that he had feelings for Brianna, and was simply frightened of those feelings, which was what Brianna had suspected all along. Yes, she could be patient with him, she decided. She did not need Ayla to tell her that he would be worth the wait, not when she'd already begun to realize it herself over the last six months, both in their time together and apart.

She moved to check the last couple of letters, hoping that one of them might be from Mardin, as it should have been long enough for a reply by now, and was pleased when she did pick up an envelope addressed to her in his scrawling script. She frowned when she picked it up, though, as it was heavier than she'd expected. She opened the envelope to find a blue crystal in a silver setting, hanging on a long silver chain, and she frowned in confusion at it. She could feel a faint throb of magic coming from it.

She dug the note out, and sure enough, in Mardin's typical scrawl, there was an explanation.

_This, apparently, is called a sending crystal. It's for sending messages across long distances between the people that have the crystals, and it's something the Wardens got to communicate more easily while on missions. I managed to convince them to give me a set so I could talk to you, and Ayla later once I come back to Kirkwall. Once it's been activated, all you have to do is hold it and talk, and I'll be able to hear you even in Ferelden. So, though I have plenty to say, I'd rather talk to you than write it out. Use it as soon as you have time, please?_

Written at the bottom, in a more precise, elegant hand, likely by one of the Warden mages, was the spell to activate the crystal. Brianna stared at it in astonishment. She'd never heard of such a thing – would this really work? If it did, it would be nice to actually hear Mardin's voice, and communicate with him in a far more timely fashion than waiting another month to hear back from him. And she also wouldn't have to worry about the possibility of her mother or Gamlen stumbling across one of Mardin's letters and reading some of the things he liked to write in there about how much he missed having her in his bed, and what he'd do if he was with her in Kirkwall. As much as she enjoyed reading that, she definitely didn't want anybody else to; it would be beyond embarrassing. Equally embarrassing was the fact that she'd tried her hand at writing similar things back. She didn't think she was terribly good at it, but Mardin seemed to like her attempts, if his replies had been any indication.

She looked thoughtfully at the crystal in her hand, then around the room. She did want to try it right away, but she didn't want her mother or Gamlen to see her talking to a crystal alone in a room, especially if it didn't work. In the end, she decided she'd head to Mardin's room in the mansion he shared with Fenris. At this time of the night, Fenris would likely still be at the Hanged Man with Varric, and she would have the place to herself.

She put away the mail in her room before scooping up the crystal and the note and heading to the mansion. It didn't take long before she was seated on Mardin's bed, the covers still rumpled as he'd left them, the armor stand and wardrobe bare and empty. She spoke the spell to activate the crystal, pleased when she felt the sensation of magic flare up in the item in response, and then she held the crystal in her hand as she spoke carefully into the crystal, feeling foolish, "Mardin? Are you there?"

There was a long moment of silence, during which she felt even more ridiculous for believing this might work, before the crystal flared a bright blue in her hand and Mardin's voice responded, "Brianna? Is that really you?" She watched in fascination as the light in the crystal ebbed and flowed with the rumbling rhythm of his voice – which sounded so clear it was like he was in the room with her. For some reason she had thought, even if it did work, it would change the sound of his voice or make him sound far away. She was glad it didn't.

"Yes, of course it's really me," she said with a laugh. "I didn't think this would really work."

"I wasn't entirely sure, either," he confessed. "At least, not across this distance. The Wardens were playing around with them in the Keep a bit when they first got them, and they've tried it a bit over short distances so far in Ferelden, but you're the first one across the ocean so far."

"Well, it seems to work just fine. It sounds like you're right in the room with me." She propped one of his pillows up behind her, against the headboard, and settled back against it for a hopefully lengthy conversation.

"I wish I was," he muttered. "How are things going there? How is everybody?"

"Everyone's doing well," Brianna told him. "Varric's emptying out that vault we found and selling off the treasure so the two of us can split the profits. He's a bit frustrated he still can't find Bartrand, though. Aveline's keeping busy with the guards, as usual, though she says they're getting a bit lazy without your training. Anders is staying busy with the clinic, also, and Merrill and Fenris are being, well, Merrill and Fenris. Isabela just got back from her latest search for the relic, where she turned up nothing again. But they're all quite well. How is Carver?"

"He's fitting in great here," Mardin replied. "Seems to get along well with all the other Wardens, and he's acquitting himself well on missions so far. Just went off on another one with Nathaniel a week ago. Nothing to worry about, though," he added hastily. "Just a scouting mission to make sure there's not any darkspawn out causing trouble."

"That's good." Brianna smiled in relief. It was still difficult for her to think of Carver going out into danger without her there, but he'd not had any major incidents with the Wardens so far – at least not that anyone had told her. "Oh, and when you see him, tell him the Viscount finally accepted my petition. The Amell estate is ours again. It happened just after I sent you the last letter, and we've been hiring workers to get it refurbished and restored. Mother and I should be able to move in about a month from now, if everything goes according to schedule."

"That's great! I'll be sure to let him know all your hard work paid off." There was a moment's pause, then he went on, "So your mother is pleased, then?"

Brianna nodded, then felt immediately stupid because of course he couldn't see her. "She seems quite pleased. She's been keeping very busy getting everything ready, and getting a whole new wardrobe befitting Lady Amell," she finished rather dryly. She did not quite share her mother's enthusiasm for the fancy dresses or upcoming balls that went with their new status. "How's your sister and her husband? And your new niece?" she added lightly.

Mardin chuckled. "Ayla's doing great, other than still being a little pissed that she can't leave the Keep, of course. She's back in full fighting shape, but she also doesn't want to leave Rylee alone with a wet nurse for any length of time, either, so she's a bit conflicted about it all. Other than that, though, she seems very happy being a mother, as Alistair is with being a father. He's been ecstatic about the whole thing, especially about having a girl. Said something about winning their bet, I don't know. And Rylee's perfect, of course. Has the Trichlor red hair and everything. She smiled at me yesterday," he said proudly.

Brianna grinned broadly. Mardin's gushing over his new niece in his last letter had been rather adorable, as was his proud uncle tone now. "So, I take it you're glad you were there to see her born, then?"

"Very much so," he said sincerely. "Thank you for convincing me to go. It's been fantastic, getting to spend time with her and Ayla and everybody. But are you sure you don't need me back there yet?"

Was that hope in his voice, or was it her own wishful thinking? She didn't think she really needed him back yet, but Maker, did she _want_ him to come back. And she had felt uneasy the last couple of days; there had been a prickling awareness in the air, sort of like the unnatural calm before a storm, that had made her wish Mardin was there with his instincts to tell her if there was something to be worried about or not. Maybe it was nothing, but maybe it wasn't. Perhaps it was time to ask him to come back, just in case something was about to happen. After all, he wouldn't have been sent here for no reason, as he'd said before.

"I don't want to take you away from your family if you're not ready to come back yet," she said honestly, "but, well . . ."

"Well, what?" he pressed when she didn't immediately go on.

"It's probably nothing," she went on at last, "but Varric has heard some rumours that someone might be planning to 'do something' about the Qunari soon. I mean, there have been lots of rumours like that, which never amounted to anything before, but I have had an uneasy feeling the last couple of days. I don't have your instincts, though, so it might not mean anything."

"But it could mean something," he countered. "And honestly, I've felt a bit uneasy the past few days, too. I'll go tomorrow, book passage on the next ship back to Kirkwall. No," he overrode her when she began to protest, not really wanting him to drop everything to come rushing back, "it's not like I can stay here forever. I'll miss Ayla and Rylee and probably even some of the Wardens, but it was only ever meant to be a visit – and they can always come to Kirkwall, too. It's time to come back, I think. Besides, I miss all of you. Especially you," his voice dropped to a low purr.

"Do you now?" she said lightly, teasingly. Her heart had skipped a beat or two at his words; even knowing that he hadn't meant them in a sentimental fashion, she hadn't been able to help the reaction. She knew she had to keep things light, though, as Ayla had advised, so she went on slyly, "And what do you miss most about me?"

"Oh, Goddess, where do I start?" he muttered. She could hear sounds of him shifting on the other end, as if he was getting more comfortable, before he added, "Are you alone?"

"Yes, why?" she answered, though her heart was starting to race a little, as she had her suspicions. She _had_ missed him in her bed, feeling more restless the longer he'd been gone, which was surprising. She'd gone without a lover for years before he came along; she didn't quite understand why she felt more wound up now, after only a few months, than she ever had before, even if the sex had been better - and more frequent - than before. Still, she wasn't about to protest if he wanted to say some of the things he'd said in his letters through this crystal, instead.

"Because I'm about to tell you in detail exactly what I miss about you," he said lowly, "and exactly what I'd do to you if I was really there in the room with you."

"Oh, well, good," she said a little breathlessly, her blood already starting to heat at the sound of his voice. It was far more effective to hear him say those words than to simply read them on a page – though she hadn't been completely unaffected by the reading of the words either. "I was just thinking I had quite missed having you in my bed."

He groaned. "Are you in a bed right now?"

"I'm in yours, actually," she admitted. "In your room here in Kirkwall. I wanted somewhere more private than Gamlen's to be talking into a crystal, and the estate isn't ready yet."

"Oh, Goddess, you're in my bed?" he growled. "What I wouldn't give to be there right now, with you naked under me. Are you naked?"

"No, but . . . I can be, if you want." She could feel herself flushing, even as her body was starting to heat and ache from his words. How could he be arousing her so without even touching her? She didn't know, but she wasn't about to complain about it.

"Yes." She could hear rustling sounds, like he was pulling off his own clothes. "Yes, I want you naked and willing and wanting." His voice was husky with desire, which never failed to send shivers down her spine. "I'm naked for you," he added softly.

_Oh, Maker_. She suddenly really, really wished he was in the room with her, his bare skin against hers, his warm body pressed to hers as he moved deeply in her. Of course, he couldn't actually be here, but this was the next best thing. So she quickly stripped off her robes, breeches, breastband, and smallclothes, and settled back on the bed. "I'm naked now. So what would you do if you were here?" she challenged him softly.

"First, I would kiss you until we were both breathless, while I touch you everywhere. I miss the taste of your mouth, and the feel of your soft, silky skin under my hands, pressed to my body." He let out a shuddering breath. "And the smell of you . . . Goddess, it's so intoxicating, better than any other smell."

She couldn't stop herself from moaning. If she closed her eyes, she could almost feel his hands on her body, the slight roughness of them just enough to create a pleasant friction as they moved over her skin. "I'd . . . touch you everywhere, too. I miss the feel of you, so firm under my hands, so warm and hard against me . . . did I ever tell you that I like your ass, too?"

"No," he moaned out, and she wondered if he was stroking himself and imagining it was her. She hoped he was.

"Well, I do," she admitted softly, flushing. "It's amazing, and I'd squeeze it with both hands." She'd done it before, but somehow it was harder for her to say the words out loud than to actually do it.

"Brianna . . ." He breathed. "I'd grab your hands and pin them so you couldn't distract me anymore, and then I'd suckle those lovely breasts of yours until you were arching against me. Touch them," he ordered her softly. "Pretend it's me."

She had never really played with herself before, always being far too ashamed to try it, or worried she'd be caught at it, but she was throbbing and aching so badly for him that she obediently cupped her breasts in her own hands, rubbing her thumbs lightly over her nipples until they became firm. After all, since she'd met him, she'd done a lot of things she never had before, and found that she enjoyed all of them. So she closed her eyes, trying to pretend his mouth was on her, and though it wasn't quite the same, with the rumble of his voice present, she could still feel heat and pleasure coursing through her body. "What . . . would you do next?"

"I'd kiss my way down your body, nibbling on you all the way down . . . until I could taste the honey and wine of your arousal again," his breath hitched a little, "and then I'd . . . suckle that nub of yours until you called my name, and slide my fingers in you. You'd be so wet and tight . . ."

As he'd been talking, she'd slid one hand down her body, parting her legs, and now she slid two fingers inside herself, unsurprised that she was wet already from his words. She pressed a thumb to her nub, circling it in the way he usually did, while she moved her fingers in herself, feeling the pleasure build in her body as she closed her eyes, letting his voice wash over her. "Mardin . . ." she gasped as her hips began to buck; it felt like it had been so long since she found her release that her body was ready and eager for it, straining towards its peak more quickly than usual.

"Say it again," he demanded, his voice hoarse. "My name. Say it again."

"Mardin," she moaned out, moving her fingers faster, feeling her body wind tighter, the sounds of him gasping and moaning through the crystal only driving her higher. "Mardin, would you take me then? Thrust deep inside me, move in me as I squeezed you tight?"

"Oh, Goddess, yes," he growled. "I'd thrust deep in you, over and over again, until you screamed for me . . ."

The pleasure burst over her then, her body arching up off the bed as she cried out, "Mardin!" She could hear him shout her name at the same time, followed by his panting breaths, even as she collapsed back to the bed, trying to catch her own breath.

When she finally could breathe easier, she said ruefully, "That's probably not what these crystals are supposed to be used for."

Mardin chuckled softly. "No, I don't think so. But though it is a poor substitute for the real thing, I don't regret it. Do you?"

"No, I don't," she said, a little surprised that she wasn't more embarrassed about what she'd just done. But she had needed that, even if, as he said, it was a poor substitute. "I still miss you in my bed, though."

"Do you mean my bed?" he teased her.

She laughed. "Your bed, my bed, whichever. I'll have a new bed soon for us to break in."

"Then I am definitely taking the next ship back to Kirkwall tomorrow," he said fervently. "Wouldn't want to miss your first night in your new bed, after all."

"Good." She smiled, feeling relaxed and content at the moment. "I look forward to it."

They spent a few more hours talking about what they'd been doing over the past month since their last letter, their voices gradually getting more sleepy, until they finally wished each other a good night, and Brianna fell asleep, still wearing the crystal.

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In spite of the odd feeling she'd had, it was nearly two weeks later before anything actually happened. Brianna had just gotten up, shortly after dawn, when a messenger arrived telling her the Viscount wanted to see her. The messenger could not tell her why, however, and Brianna frowned. So far as she knew, all the details of reclaiming the estate had been hashed out. And while the Viscount had requested her help with an odd job here and there, it had always been in the form of a letter. She'd only been in his office twice since recovering Saemus, and that had been about the estate both times. What could he possibly want now?

There was, of course, only one way to find out, so once she'd eaten her breakfast, she headed for Hightown, keeping her staff with her just in case, and with the sender's crystal around her neck. She'd been wearing it daily, in case something happened that she needed to inform Mardin of, or in case he tried to contact her. They'd talked nearly daily since she'd gotten the crystal, sometimes only briefly, and they had never repeated their interlude of before, since Mardin had gotten on board a ship the next day, and he didn't have a cabin to himself. As he'd informed her, even he wasn't that much of an exhibitionist, and so they'd simply have to wait until they could be alone for real.

Which was fine, she'd told herself. She'd been waiting three months already; she could wait a couple more weeks. He should be here soon, within the next few days, depending on the winds and weather, which was particularly fine and sunny in Kirkwall today. She only hoped that if Viscount Dumar was summoning her about a job, it wasn't something truly dangerous, as she'd prefer to have as much help as possible if it was.

It didn't take her long to reach the Keep, and she headed directly to the Viscount's office. She'd just reached the outer room when she heard Seneschal Bran's voice from within the office. "The compound was not meant to be permanent. There are concerns the Qunari influence is . . . no longer contained."

_Shit._ Brianna sighed, fervently hoping this wasn't about the Qunari. She was not nearly ready to deal with that can of worms, and really, would prefer to never have to deal with them at all. Still, if Mardin was right, the Qunari might have something to do with this mysterious destiny of hers, so she headed into the office, as the door was open.

The Viscount was replying to Bran as she entered, "Was it ever? Kirkwall has tension enough between Templar and mage, but these Qunari . . ." He shook his head. "They sit like gargoyles, waiting for Maker-knows-what, and everyone goes mad around them. Nearly two years I have stood between fanatics. And now, this." He gestured to a piece of parchment laid out on his desk.

Brianna stopped in front of his desk. "And what exactly is this? Does it have to do with why you summoned me?"

She watched as Dumar waved to Bran in dismissal. "Leave us."

Brianna gave a cheeky grin to Bran as he walked past her with a scowl on his face. In spite of the Viscount granting her the Amell estate, the Seneschal had never taken a liking to her, and she suspected he still viewed her as no better than a mercenary. Not that she cared; she had no use for snobs.

As soon as Bran had left the room, closing the door with a bit of a slam behind him, Viscount Dumar sighed, leaning against his desk. "Meredith at my throat, Orsino at my heels, and a city scared of heretical giants. Balance has held because the Qunari ask for nothing. Even the space in Lowtown was a 'gift' to contain them. But now the Arishok has requested you. By name. What did you do?"

Brianna stared at him in surprise. The Arishok had asked for her by name? Why in the Maker's name would he do that? She shrugged when she realized Dumar was still waiting for an answer. "Honestly, I don't think I did much of anything, really. We met only the once, and I tried my best to be honest and courteous, I suppose. Maybe that was enough to impress him? I have no idea."

The Viscount shook his head. "It makes no sense. And it doesn't matter. I just need them quiet. I remember how you helped my son. It seems you are meant to have influence above your station." Brianna tried not to roll her eyes at that. Hadn't he just elevated her station, anyway? "Speak to the Arishok," Dumar went on, seemingly unaware of the veiled insult. "Give him what he needs to keep the peace. Can you do that for Kirkwall, Serah Hawke?"

"I'll do my best," Brianna replied, "but wouldn't it be better to send them away, if they're such a bother?"

The Viscount shrugged helplessly. "They will not leave, and we don't have the resources to force the issue. At least, not in a way that would leave the city intact. If they had come to conquer, I suspect they would have done so."

"That's true," Brianna admitted. "They do usually arrive as conquerors. It's odd that this has gone on so long."

Dumar nodded. "Very, and I have no interest in antagonizing them. That is partially why I suffer being a messenger today. A treaty exists and it has been honoured. Although . . ." He lifted a shoulder.

"You have doubts," Brianna supplied, and he nodded again.

"They claim they are waiting for a second ship, but it has been quite long enough for one to have arrived. They want something else."

What could they possibly want, though, Brianna wondered, that they hadn't been able to find in all the time they'd been here? The Viscount didn't seem to have any idea, either, but she asked anyway. "Any idea what I can expect?"

Dumar shook his head, looking equally puzzled. "None. Honestly, I don't think I've heard two direct words from the Arishok. Other than his rather deliberate phrasing of 'begone.' If you think his asking me to notify you of this is strange, well, you would be right."

"Well," Brianna said at last, "if this will help the citizens of Kirkwall, I'll do what I can." No point in her antagonizing the Viscount, either, since he'd so recently granted her the Amell estate and title. And the more she endeared herself to him, the less likely it would be that the Templars would look too closely at her.

Dumar smiled gratefully at her. "That is an attitude this city has lacked for a long time. Appease the Arishok. Take his demand and let him return to dormancy. As awkward as this has been, it is better than the alternative." He sighed, shaking his head as he sank down in his chair. "Stepping down is looking more and more appealing."

Privately, Brianna thought he probably should step down, since he seemed all too willing to bury his head in the sand and ignore problems rather than actually do something about them. But since she had no idea who should be Viscount in his stead, it was probably best that they kept with the status quo for now. "I'll let you know what I find out," she told him as she headed for the door, and he nodded, waving his hand at her in dismissal.

Deciding that she wanted a bit of moral support before she went to talk to the Arishok (and also just in case something happened) she went first to find Fenris, as he knew more about the Qunari than anyone else. He agreed to come along willingly enough, and they went to the Hanged Man next. Varric was there, and as always, he agreed to accompany her, but Isabela, who was also there, refused as soon Brianna had explained what she was about to do.

"Sorry, Hawke, but I just remembered I have something else to take care of this morning," Isabela said hastily, setting her drink down on the bar. "But you know, if you need me later in the day for something else, maybe I can help then. See you!"

And with that, she tossed money down on the bar and fled the tavern. "That was odd," Brianna commented mildly, watching the door swing shut behind Isabela.

"When is she ever normal?" Fenris remarked, though he looked a bit curious, as well.

Varric snorted. "Broody's got a point. Anyway, we probably shouldn't keep the Arishok waiting."

Brianna sighed. "Probably not. Well, the three of us is likely enough to go talk to him, anyway. If we find we need more help later, we can always stop in the Alienage and see if Merrill's free."

The others nodded, and soon enough, they were at the Qunari compound. The guard let them in, and they entered, slowly climbing the stairs up to the next level. The compound was precisely the same as the last time, right down to the tension and all the Qunari staring at them. The only difference was that the Arishok was already seated in his throne-like chair atop another flight of stairs, elbows on his knees, waiting for them. Brianna and the others stopped at the bottom of the second flight of stairs.

"Serah Hawke," the Arishok said coolly in his precise tones, only slightly lifting his head to look down at her.

In spite of the fact that she felt more than a little nervous, Brianna faced him squarely, Fenris and Varric on either side of her, shoulders straight, keeping her expression as calm as possible and her tone even as she replied, "Messere?"

"Last we met, I did not know your name. Did not care to," the Arishok said, still in those measured tones. "You have changed your fortune over the last several months. The Qunari have not. I offer a courtesy, Hawke. Someone has stolen what he thinks is the formula for gaatlok. You will want to hunt him."

Brianna raised her eyebrows, surprised, as she glanced around at all the huge Qunari guards littered around the compound, armed to the teeth. Who would be both skilled and suicidal enough to steal something from the Qunari? "That's quite the feat," she said at last. "Someone actually managed to steal your explosives?"

The Arishok gave her what could only be termed as a scornful look. "It was allowed. The stolen formula was a decoy. Saar-qamek – a poison gas, not explosives. A small amount is dangerous enough to your kind. But if made in quantity, perhaps by someone intending to sell it . . ." He lifted one shoulder slightly.

"That merchant . . . Javaris?" Brianna asked, remembering that weaselly little dwarf who'd hired her to defeat the Tal-Vashoth, hoping it would get him the formula for gaatlok in exchange. She had no doubt he'd intended to make as much of it as possible if he'd gotten it, in hopes of getting rich off it. Would he really have tried again, though?

The Arishok spread his hands out. "Would he be cautious, or would he assume success and make enough to threaten a district? A courtesy, Hawke. You will want to hunt him."

It was the second time he'd said that, as though she should be grateful for the opportunity to stop Javaris from making the gas – if it was even him. She frowned. "Just how dangerous is this fake mixture?"

"It is not a threat to Qunari," the Arishok replied. "For your kind, it is as dangerous as those who breathe it."

_Right, because that definitely clears things up_. "Can you elaborate?" she asked carefully, hoping to get a little more information, in case it was too late to stop Javaris. At least then, she'd know what she was walking into.

"The gas kills, but first it turns allies against their own in blind rage," the Arishok explained, sounding as though he was merely discussing the finer points of wine. "So, the greater the skill of those sent against us, the more dangerous they become to their own people."

_Great_. Brianna could only hope, after hearing that description, that none of it got made before she found the culprit. First, though, there was one other thing she wanted to know. "I barely spoke to you before. Why give me this warning?"

"You are capable, but I have yet to decide if you are capable of understanding," the Arishok said, as though that was actually an answer. "Save your streets from this fool dwarf, then we will talk."

Brianna turned to Varric, hoping he had some sort of answer for her, as he usually did. "Any idea where we can find Javaris?"

"I heard about a sell-off. Merchant territories and such. They don't do that unless someone left in a hurry," Varric answered. "I'd have figured he rooked some noble. He's sure not a burglar."

"Do you have any idea where he is?" Brianna asked hopefully. The sooner they found Javaris, the sooner they could prevent this gas from being made at all.

Varric shrugged. "I haven't kept up on the squirt. Ask the Coterie."

Brianna turned briefly back to the Arishok. He seemed to appreciate courtesy, and pissing him off was not on her list of things to do today. "Thank you for the warning. We'll hunt him down right away."

"Panahedan, Hawke. It will be interesting to see if you die," was the reassuring reply she got. _Fabulous_.

Brianna turned and left the compound, the other two following behind, making sure she didn't appear to be in a hurry, knowing the Arishok would probably view that as weakness. It was only when they were well out of earshot of the Qunari, on their way to Darktown, that she muttered, "That was bloody reassuring. 'It will be interesting to see if you die?!'"

"I believe he is viewing it as a test of your skill," Fenris offered.

"A test I'd better not fail then," Brianna said with a sigh. She was right; she definitely wasn't interested in handling the Qunari, but it wasn't like she had a choice, since it seemed the Arishok would only talk to her – and only if she lived through this.

She told Varric to lead them to the Coterie so they could find out about Javaris, and she and Fenris followed him down to Darktown. As she went, Brianna found herself torn between wishing Mardin was here, since he could probably track Javaris faster than any of them, and being grateful that he wasn't. If that poison gas did get made, Mardin would be likely to be a greater threat than anyone else if he succumbed to it. She glanced down briefly at the crystal, but it was silent, and she decided it was probably for the best if he didn't land until this was over. And there was no point in worrying him with what was going on when he couldn't do anything about it until he got here, so she didn't pick up the crystal to let him know, either.

It didn't take Varric long to find a woman in leather armor in the corner of Darktown, next to a table piled high with goods, who was shouting to passersby about the assets of Javaris Tintop. And, fortunately, the woman seemed to be no fonder of Javaris than Brianna was, for she willingly gave them the information that he was likely to be at Smuggler's Cut, which apparently emptied out at a cave outside Kirkwall. Varric, of course, knew where the entrance was, but before Brianna could decide whether to head there or track down Merrill or Anders to help first, Isabela came trotting up, face flushed, looking a little breathless.

"Isabela?" Brianna asked in surprise as the pirate stopped in front of them. "What are you doing down here?"

"Oh, that business of mine, you know," Isabela flapped her hand carelessly. "Heard there was someone down here who might know about the relic, but it was a dead end, as usual. Do you still need help?"

"Actually, yes." Brianna explained what they'd discovered from the Arishok, and how they were about to track Javaris down to determine if he was really the one that stole from them.

Isabela's brows lifted. "There's no way this Javaris stole from the Qunari. That's hard. I've heard," she added quickly, making Brianna frown a little at the fervent way she'd said it. Before she could press further, however, Isabela went on, "But you'll definitely need help if you're heading to Smuggler's Cut. It's usually full of Carta and cutthroats. I'll come with. I still owe you, after all."

"All right," Brianna agreed with a shrug. She wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth, and if Isabela was coming to help, she wouldn't have to waste valuable time looking for Anders or Merrill instead. The four of them should be enough to deal with a few Carta dwarves and Javaris. "Let's go then. Varric, lead the way."

"Sure thing, Hawke."

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"Shit," Varric panted, leaning against the stone wall to catch his breath after what had been a very close and exhausting fight against a large amount of Carta dwarves. "That was close."

"It was," Brianna muttered as she healed a wound Isabela had picked up. Had it not been for the combined talents of her friends and her own magic, she didn't think they would have survived this last fight against well over a dozen armed and dangerous dwarves - more than she'd expected to run into down here. Fortunately, Varric had assured her that they were nearly to the end of the Cut, for this was not the only fight they'd encountered like that. Some of the other fights appeared to have been against mercenaries, as well, comprised of human, elven, and dwarven fighters, but this last fight had been the worst. They'd somehow managed to get through it with only minimal injuries, but Brianna didn't much want a repeat of that fight ever again.

"When did you say Red was getting back, anyway?" Varric went on, checking Bianca over for any damage. "We sure could've used his help."

"His skills are sorely missed," Fenris agreed, one hand placed over the other bleeding arm. Having finished with Isabela, Brianna moved to him next, beginning another healing spell. Fenris, she knew, had taken the brunt of the fight, as the only true front-line fighter she had among her friends right now, since she didn't like to bother Aveline. Isabela, while devastatingly effective, preferred to have the element of surprise on her side, either attacking from behind or the shadows, and neither Brianna nor Varric were skilled at close combat, which left Fenris alone to face their enemies head-on. Besides that, he and Mardin had become a very effective fighting pair, after endless hours of training and combat together on the various jobs since Mardin had joined them. Had he been here, she didn't doubt that he and Fenris together could have cleaned out the dwarves quite a bit faster, which would have been better for all of them. It was obvious she wasn't the only one who missed having him around.

"He should be here in the next couple of days," she answered as she finished up the healing spell, which she was fortunately getting a lot more skilled at under Anders' tutelage. "As soon as the next ship from Ferelden arrives."

"Good," Varric said sincerely. "I miss having that big lug between me and sharp, pointy objects."

Brianna laughed, shaking her head at the dwarf, while Isabela muttered, "I wish I was on a ship right now. The wind, the waves, the glistening sailors . . . mmm. What?" she added when everybody stared at her. "I miss my ship."

"Yes, I'm certain that was the only thing you were referring to," Fenris said dryly.

Isabela gave him a wicked grin, looking him up and down. "You're right, I miss glistening bodies working under me too. Do you want to volunteer?"

"Of course not," Fenris retorted, though Brianna noticed with a smile that he looked a little flustered, his cheeks growing pink.

"As much as I love to watch Broody blush," Varric said with a smirk, "we should probably keep going and find that idiot before he starts making poison gas."

"You're right," Brianna agreed, turning to head towards the opposite end of the cave they were currently in, ignoring the mutters of "I was not blushing" and "Everybody wants to spoil my fun" behind her as she went.

It was only a few more moments after that (fortunately free of attacks) before they emerged from the tunnel into the nearly blinding light of the noon sun, streaming down onto the sandy beach before them. It appeared they'd come out on the Wounded Coast, and Brianna only had a moment to see someone who looked like Javaris further down the beach before they were set upon by more mercenaries. Luckily, there were only eight of them this time, and they went down much easier than the last batch of Carta dwarves had, leaving Brianna free to march down the beach toward Javaris, who was now cowering against a rocky hill, apparently expecting magic or a stray bolt to hit him at any moment.

"Calm yourself, Javaris," she said dryly as they stopped in front of the blonde dwarf. "You're not dead yet."

Javaris took his hands down from their position covering his head, finally straightening and looking up at them, only to scowl immediately. "You? Granny's garters, she would hire you. I can't buy a break on discount! You know what? Go ahead." He threw his hands up in the air in complete exasperation. "Take my head and pike it back to that sodding elf! I need the rest."

Brianna stared at the dwarf, wondering if he'd lost his mind since she'd last seen him. Why was he talking about a she? And an elf? "Elf? What in the Maker's name are you talking about? I haven't spoken to any elves about you."

"You don't know? Then, what, you're tracking for the Qunari?" Javaris demanded. Brianna shrugged and nodded in response, and the dwarf went on immediately, "Then she did it, that elf got them after me for nothing! Bitch-born!"

Isabela snorted from behind Brianna. "It certainly wasn't hard to frame you."

"Look, I'm minding my business, same old," Javaris told Brianna, apparently choosing to ignore the pirate, "and out of the blue some elf tries to kill me. Says she's got the Qunari powder and I'm her cover. I slipped her, hired some bodyguards, and ran for it. And now you're here. Great."

Brianna frowned, wondering if he was telling the truth. Why would an elf steal from the Qunari and frame Javaris? "So where exactly is this elf? All I see right now is you."

"Leaving the other person behind is the first step in running away," Javaris retorted scornfully. "Sorry if that's inconvenient. Here, you want to drag dark into light, I had a man follow her. The elf's in Lowtown." He handed over a piece of parchment, which Brianna took, looking down at the hastily scribbled message and crudely drawn map pointing to an alley in Lowtown as Javaris continued, "I just want to get out. With my dead guards. Thanks for that."

Brianna nodded after a moment. She couldn't see any signs that Javaris was lying, and the possibility that this elf was already making the gas was too great a risk to ignore, especially if it was being done so right in the middle of Lowtown. "Better luck wherever you're bound, Javaris. The farther the better," she added significantly. She might believe Javaris about this, but that didn't mean he wouldn't cause some other kind of trouble in the future, and if she was to make Kirkwall her home now, she didn't want to have to deal with it.

"Right. Got me a rosy future to plan out," Javaris muttered sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he turned away from them. "Think I'll start by selling some boots." He moved over to the nearest mercenary body and began looting through it, muttering to himself.

"We'd better get back to Lowtown," Brianna told the others. "Quickly." They all nodded, and turned back to the tunnel, moving at a near run. 

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It didn't take long to find the alley where the map led, unfortunately, as there were sounds of screaming and shouting and clashing battle coming from it. One of Aveline's guards, a dark-skinned, bald man in the traditional guard armor, stood in the street that led to the alley, blocking the way and shouting at people to stay away. As Brianna and the others walked up to him, he cried, "All of you, I can't fight the damned air! You want to live, stay out!"

"Is there something I can do?" Brianna asked, stopping a few feet in front of him.

The guard did a double-take when he looked at her; like most of Aveline's guards, he'd met her before. "Wait. Messere Hawke? Maker, please, the street is death." He shook his head frantically. "There was a cloud that drove people mad, and now a seeping mist that kills. All I can do is warn people. If someone like you dies on my watch, I'm right stuffed."

It was worse than she'd thought, but despite the risk, Brianna knew she had to do something. This gas had to be stopped now, before more of the citizens of Lowtown succumbed to it. It was likely too many innocent people had died already. So after a quick glance at the others, who nodded in agreement, she walked past the guard, patting him on the shoulder as she said, "Easy. Keep your post and keep everyone else out. This is my risk."

"But . . ." the guard began helplessly, but Brianna ignored him and kept walking toward the break in the stone buildings that led to the alley. She could already see a green-tinged mist creeping along the ground towards them.

There was nothing else that she could do but head forward, however, and try to stop the poison, so she turned the corner of the building, walking into the alley, which led to a sort of square courtyard in the midst of several buildings. The green mist hung strongly throughout the whole area, creeping along the ground, and with the first breath Brianna took, it seemed to sting her lungs, forcing a cough from her as she put an arm up to try to cover her nose and mouth.

"Very strong," Isabela managed around a cough. "We need to find the source."

They made their way through the gas, all trying to keep from inhaling it as much as possible, Isabela wrapping the handkerchief she normally kept over her hair around her face instead, and eventually Varric spotted an unusual barrel with an open lid that was steadily spewing gas. "We need to find a way to close them!" Brianna called, trying to keep her arm up and hoping that she was only imagining that her brain was starting to feel fuzzy.

They were attacked by a crazed group of people almost immediately after they began searching, however, and had to do their best to knock them out without killing them. Brianna cast a sleep spell on some of them, dropping them where they stood, and it was Isabela that found an odd metal latch after one of the people dropped it. Varric took it, scrambling over to the barrel, and used it to get the lid shut again, cutting off the source of the gas.

"There must be more barrels," Fenris said grimly, looking around the rest of the courtyard, where the green gas was still just as thick, though it had already begun to dissipate where they stood. "We need to find them."

They split up and began to search the courtyard, and did indeed locate three more open barrels, though they weren't as lucky in the matter of the latches, and had to cut through continual attacks by crazed Kirkwall citizens and possibly some mercenaries, by the look of it, while they looked for more latches. And the more time went on, the more Brianna felt like she was struggling for a breath, like there was a weight on her chest, and her head was spinning and fuzzy, and why was she so _mad_? She couldn't seem to control the feeling; it just kept rising up in her chest, stifling her, and she whacked an oncoming citizen in the face with her staff, hard, bringing him down to the ground.

She moved on, ignoring the person lying on the ground and the distant shout of her name. They'd found two of the latches and closed two of the barrels; they only needed to find one more, and who cared about these annoying people, anyway?

And then suddenly Isabela and Varric were there in front of her, shouting something. Had she knocked more people out of the way? She didn't know, and she didn't much care. Everybody was so infuriating, why wouldn't they just _go away_?! She finally lost the struggle with the red-hot rage pulsing through her body, and raised her staff, a spell coming to her lips as redness completely misted her vision and fogged her brain.


	21. The Qunari

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brianna and the others must deal with the aftermath of the Qunari's poison gas. Mardin finally returns as well, just in time to find out that a Qunari delegate has gone missing after meeting with the Viscount, leading to more Qunari trouble for them to deal with.

Chapter 21: The Qunari

"Brianna! _Brianna!_ What in the depths of the Pit is going on?!" It was the sound of Mardin's voice, panicked and angry, that finally jerked Brianna back to awareness.

She looked around, frantically, trying to figure out what was going on. She was holding her staff tightly in both hands, and in front of her was Isabela, holding the dead body of a mercenary in front of her, the body looking like it had been roasted, Isabela peeking over the shoulder, wide-eyed. Varric was crouched behind a low stone wall, which looked a little charred, also. Between them was the final barrel, which someone must have shut, as the green gas was gradually disappearing from all around them. Fenris was several hundred yards away, in the midst of a pile of bodies, his sword raised while he panted for breath, looking as though he was just returning to awareness, too.

Was Mardin here, too? She'd heard his voice. But no, she didn't see any sign of him. And suddenly, there it was again, and she looked down, seeing the sending crystal on her chest flashing with blue as a string of foreign words flowed from it. She didn't know what they meant, but she guessed from the angry sound of his voice that Mardin was cursing. "Are you two okay?" she asked shakily, looking up at Isabela and Varric.

They both nodded, Isabela finally letting go of the body as it dropped to the ground. "Are you okay?" Isabela asked a little warily, removing the handkerchief from around her face, and Brianna nodded fervently. "I think so. I'm sorry. Varric? I didn't hurt either of you, did I?"

Varric came out from behind the wall, shaking his head. "I'm fine, Hawke. Rivaini and I are quick, don't worry. But you'd better answer Red before he explodes."

Brianna glanced back down to the crystal, realizing Mardin's string of curses had yet to stop, and she picked it up, bringing it closer to her face as she said, "Mardin? Mardin, are you there?"

The foreign words cut off abruptly. "Brianna?" He sounded relieved, she realized, and heard a sound as though he was letting out a long breath. "What in the Fox's name is going on?! Why did it take you so long to answer? I heard shouting and fighting, and I thought . . ." His voice trailed off, as though he didn't want to complete whatever that thought had been.

"No, no, I'm fine now," she hastened to reassure him. She didn't feel any obvious injuries, just as though she was drained and exhausted. And by some insane luck, she'd managed not to hurt her friends while under the influence of the Qunari gas, which was the most important thing. On top of that, one of them had managed to stop the gas before anything worse had happened.

"You're fine _now_?" he repeated incredulously, his voice rising drastically in volume.

"Yes, now." She quickly explained to him about going to see the Arishok, the theft, and the Qunari's poison gas. "Unfortunately, we were too late to stop whoever stole it from making the gas, and we went in to stop it. I must have . . . succumbed to the effects a little bit, and that's why I wasn't answering you. But we stopped it, and I'm fine now. So are the others. Right?" She added as Fenris came back over to them. He nodded shortly, looking a bit disturbed, but unharmed.

Another string of what she assumed was foreign curse words erupted from the crystal, followed by something that sounded like, "Fucking Qunari. I knew it." He took a long breath, then went on in a softer voice, "You're really okay? Everybody else, too?"

"We're all okay," she reassured him. "Really."

The others had all gathered a little closer, and Varric leaned up towards the crystal. "Red! Get your ass back here, would ya?"

Mardin chuckled, though it sounded a little pained. "I'm _trying_. That's actually what I was originally calling you for; the ship is going to arrive tomorrow."

"Oh good." Isabela leaned closer too, adding, "We miss you, handsome."

"Especially Broody here, he's so lonely." Varric smirked at the elf. "Aren't you?"

"It has been rather quiet in the mansion, particularly at night," Fenris said blandly.

Brianna couldn't stifle a giggle as she realized what Fenris was implying, especially as Mardin was laughing loudly on the other end of the crystal along with Isabela, and Varric looked frankly shocked. "Did Broody just make a _joke_?"

"I have made jokes before, dwarf," Fenris returned evenly.

"Not that I remember, Broody."

"For the last time, I do not brood," Fenris retorted, looking exasperated.

Mardin had gotten his laughter largely under control by this point, and interjected in an amused tone, "Goddess, I really did miss all of you."

Brianna smiled at that as Isabela chimed in, "Of course you did, handsome."

"Why wouldn't you miss us? I doubt the Wardens are half as much fun. And as for you, elf," Varric went on, "if you were any more broody –"

"Serah Hawke!" A voice shouted from above, cutting Varric off and silencing anything Fenris might have been about to say. Brianna looked up, to a ledge above the courtyard, several feet away from where they were currently standing, to see a blonde elven woman glaring down at them. She was wearing plate armor and hefting a long, serrated spear, her face appearing to be scarred and the look in her eyes half-crazed.

"Easy," Brianna said, holding up her hands in a gesture of peace, wondering if this was the elf Javaris had been talking about. The sending crystal was silent, but it still glowed blue, indicating Mardin was listening as she went on, "I'm just trying to find out what happened."

"You have enemies, Hawke. I'm glad it's you, really," the elven woman said, shaking her head and looking sadly down at the courtyard. Now that the creeping green mist was dissipating, the amount of bodies it revealed was disturbing. Some, Brianna was sure, had been there before they'd even arrived. And some, she hoped, were only unconscious. "These poor people. You are a much better target!"

Target? Brianna wondered. Had someone set this as a trap for her? She needed answers, and it seemed like the elf might be able to provide them. "You stole the gaatlok, what, to sell?" she demanded. "What exactly were you trying to accomplish here?"

"Qunari take my people!" The elf snarled back at her, pacing back and forth as she ranted. "My siblings forget their culture, then go to the Qun for purpose. We're losing them twice! So I get help from your people. We'll take the Qunari thunder, make some accidents, and make them hated. But this . . . this is all wrong." She shook her head again.

_Help from my people?_ Who would have thought of this crazy scheme? Brianna wondered. "Who? Which of 'my people' put you up to the theft?"

"It can still work," the elf went on, ignoring her question entirely. "They are hidden in your city. They'll enrage the faithful, and make sure the Qunari are blamed." The woman's eyes were gleaming with a mad fire as she continued, "Me, I'm finished. I just need a few more bodies. A few more!"

And with that, she raised her spear and came dashing down the stairs to attack them, followed by several more mercenaries, as Brianna pulled out her staff again and the others raised their weapons.

"Sorry, Mardin," she murmured to the crystal, shooting an arcane blast at an onrushing mercenary. "I'm a bit busy for now. I'll have to talk to you once everything's settled."

"You'd better," his voice drifted from the crystal. "I'll want to know if everybody's still okay. And I'll be there tomorrow to help root out whoever caused this." With that, the blue light on the crystal winked out.

"Glad to hear it," Brianna mumbled to the dark crystal, before she raised her staff once more, casting the powerful blizzard spell she'd recently learned from an arcane tome she'd bought with her new money. The spell sent the elven woman and her three remaining mercenaries slamming back into the wall of the courtyard with the force of the wind and driving ice, dropping them to the ground. Fenris rushed forward in a blur of light, running his sword through the woman before she could rise again, and Varric and Isabela easily picked off the remaining three.

"Is that the last of them?" Brianna asked, feeling exhaustion creep over her. She'd used so much magic today, and the gas seemed to have taken a lot out of her, as well. All she wanted now was a bath, food, and sleep. Not necessarily in that order.

Varric peered around the courtyard with Bianca at the ready, before slowly lowering it once no one else appeared. Brianna could hear some coughing, however, as some of the people lying around the courtyard began to get up, thank the Maker. "Looks like it must be, Hawke. Who do you suppose got that crazy elf to try and set up the Qunari?"

Brianna shrugged as Isabela said, "Who knows? The Qunari have lots of enemies themselves. No one much likes having them around here."

"Whoever it was, this is unlikely to be their last attempt," Fenris added, sheathing his sword.

"I'm sure we'll hear from them again," Brianna agreed with a sigh. She leaned down to Varric as a sudden horrible thought occurred to her as more people slowly got to their feet. "Varric, I didn't . . . kill any civilians while I was out of it, did I? Just . . . just mercenaries, right?"

Varric patted her arm reassuringly. "From what I saw, Hawke, you just knocked people out of your way with your staff. You didn't take the time to finish anybody off, at least until you aimed that fire spell at me and Rivaini. She'd just gotten the last barrel closed right before you did that, though, and between that and Red shouting, you weren't out of it long."

Brianna let out a relieved breath. If she'd killed any innocent civilians, who were only attacking her because of the gas, she didn't know what she would have done. Mercenaries and bandits were one thing; the people of Kirkwall were quite another. "Thank the Maker. And I'm sorry, Varric, Isabela. I don't know what I would have done if – "

"It's fine," Isabela cut her off, flapping her hand. "It was the gas, and you didn't actually manage to hit us. I was only about a minute away from losing it and stabbing somebody myself."

"And the people that I attacked?" Fenris was looking over at the pile of bodies he'd been standing in the midst of, his jaw tight.

Varric trotted over to the pile, Brianna and the others close behind, and she let out a relieved breath as Varric called out, "They're all armed. Definitely mercenaries, probably working with that elf."

Fenris nodded, some of the tension easing from his face. Brianna smiled reassuringly at him before looking around the courtyard at the confused people milling about. The damage wasn't as bad as it could have been, but it was certainly bad enough; besides the mercenaries, dozens of people had died before they'd arrived. Dozens more were injured or confused, and Brianna could only hope that they wouldn't remember what they'd done.

"We need to do something about this," she gestured at the mess. "And we need to talk to the Arishok." She took a deep breath. "I don't have the magic left to help these people; Isabela, can you go to Darktown and get Anders to come help?"

"Will do." Isabela gave her a mock salute before trotting off in the direction of the alley that led back out.

"Fenris, Varric, will you come with me to see the Arishok? We'll let Aveline's guard know it's safe on the way out, and he can get the rest of the guards to come and help. And after we see the Arishok," she sighed, looking up at the slowly darkening sky, "I'll need to tell the Viscount, too."

"I don't envy you that job, Hawke," Varric said, "but we're with you." Fenris nodded, and she thanked them as they headed out of the courtyard.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So, I was wrong about our thief," the Arishok said, sitting calmly in his throne once more as he stared down at them.

Brianna nodded, having already delivered the explanation about the elven woman with apparent backing from the citizens of Kirkwall. "It appears so."

The Arishok spread his hands. "They say we were careless with our trap, that this is our fault. But even without the saar-qamek, there would have been death. This elf was determined to lay blame at our feet. Selfishness, want, denial – how do you allow this to continue?"

"There wouldn't have been as much death without that gas of yours," Brianna pointed out. Probably unwisely, but she was pissed at the fact that the gas had nearly caused her to harm her own friends and innocent civilians. Still, not being completely suicidal, she worked to keep her tone matter-of-fact, and the Arishok didn't look offended, so she continued, "If you dislike Kirkwall so much, why haven't you left?"

"Since we arrived I have seen nothing but greed and weakness. Dwarves, humans, elves, just . . . festering," the Arishok said darkly. "No order, no goal. You are one of the few I have met with any ability. And yet this too was random, a result of selfishness. I cannot fathom how a mire like this can be justified. You say we should leave, but how can you bear to stay in this . . . chaos?"

Brianna shrugged. She couldn't really disagree with any of his points; there was a lot of greed and chaos in Kirkwall. "My welcome to the city was not so different from yours," she agreed.

"And yet you suffer it."

"I suffer it because the greed and chaos is not all that there is," she told him, sincerely hoping to make the Arishok see. "There's goodness and strength here too." Like Varric, and her friends, without whom she would not have made it as far as she had, she thought, smiling first at Varric, then at Fenris, still on either side of her. "It's an opportunity to make a real difference. I hope to make it better here, to make a life for my family."

"Karasten are soldiers." The Arishok stood up and walked forward to the top of the stairs, pointing at the Qunari who stood as guards there. Brianna tried not to tense up at this movement as he went on, "The Qun made it so. They can never vary from that assigned path, never be other than they are meant to be. But, they are free to choose within that role. To accept and succeed, or deny and die. Glory is clear and defined. Could you – could not this entire city – benefit from that certainty? How else will you know when you have made a 'real difference?'" he demanded as he began to pace back and forth.

Brianna frowned, a little worried at the direction the conversation was taking; she hoped the Arishok didn't plan to convert the entire city. Still, he was remaining calm and discussing the matter, so she could only respond in kind, and continue to give him the honesty that she thought had earned his respect. "I don't see any freedom in that. Freedom to 'choose to obey' sounds contradictory to me. And I will know I have made a difference when I see the people I have helped, living the lives that they wish, that make them happy."

The Arishok pointed to one of the guards again, who remained looking straight ahead, spear in hand. "He chooses to be. As do we all, long before any of your meaningless freedoms are presented." He moved back to his chair, sitting again with slow, deliberate movements. "Your kind may force our role to change if the Qun demands."

_Shit_. That was exactly the kind of thing she didn't want to hear. Time to distract the Arishok, Brianna decided. "If I were you, I'd be concerned about her supporters. She said someone else helped her do this, helped her try to pin the blame for everything on you."

The Arishok lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug. "Our enemies strike from shadow because they cannot stand before us. This is not a revelation. And it doesn't matter. I am not here to fight; I am here to satisfy a demand you cannot understand."

This. This was exactly what she wanted to know. If she could figure out why the Qunari were here, maybe she could get rid of them before they decided to change their role. "You've been here a long time," Brianna said with forced casualness. "How long does it take to satisfy one demand?"

"It will take as long as needed," the Arishok growled, pointing a finger directly at her. "No ship is coming. There is no rescue from duty to the Qun. I am stuck here."

Well, wasn't that just marvellous. "That is not the understanding the Viscount and his supporters have," Brianna replied carefully. And definitely not the answer she'd wanted to hear.

The Arishok pointed a finger angrily at her once more. "Let them rot. Filth stole from us. Not now, not the saar-qamek. Before we came here. A simple act of greed has bound me. We are all denied Par Vollen until I alone recover what was lost under my command!" He shot to his feet once more, looking furious, rage lining every feature on his already intimidating face. Brianna controlled the urge to reach for her staff, knowing he wouldn't take it well as he stalked forward.

"That is why this elf and her shadows are unimportant. That is why I do not simply walk from this pustule of a city! Fixing your mess is not the demand of the Qun! And you should all be _**grateful**_!" He roared the last sentence, louder even than Mardin as a bear, charging forward to the top of the stairs. It was only through sheer force of will that Brianna managed not to run or cast a spell in defense. As suddenly as he'd charged, he seemed to deflate, the energy and fury draining from him. He turned and headed back to his chair, sitting down once more and saying in a calm, measured tone, "Thank you, human, for your service. Leave."

Brianna nodded tightly, every muscle in her body like a coiled spring, adrenaline pounding through her. Only by keeping her fists clenched did she keep her hands from shaking or reaching for her staff. She turned around and walked out, keeping her pace slow and deliberate, despite her desire to flee from the rage she'd just seen. Varric and Fenris quietly followed. None of them spoke until they were standing in front of the Hanged Man, well away from the docks and the Qunari.

"That's an oxman ready to charge," Varric said quietly, looking shaken. "The Viscount should know."

Fenris nodded in agreement. "The Arishok is angered. If those people who hired that elf try any other tactics, he may very well decide to take action. If we wish to avoid a war with the Qunari, we must find them and stop them before it gets that far."

"Yeah." Brianna let out a long breath, leaning against the wall of the Hanged Man, her body shaking with reaction. As much as she missed him, especially right now, she was rather glad Mardin hadn't been at her side for that. There was no telling what he would have done in response to that obvious threat the Arishok had just delivered. Still, she would be glad to have him back tomorrow, especially if the Qunari did decide to attack. She flexed her fists, then shoved a hand through her hair, feeling utterly drained. "I wish I had any clue who it was. The Qunari have lots of enemies, as Isabela pointed out. Or what was stolen from them; if we could get it back, they might leave. Can you try to get your spies to find both those things out, Varric?"

"Sure thing, Hawke." He studied her closely, looking concerned. "You look exhausted. You should go have something to eat, get some sleep. The Arishok won't attack tonight, and Dumar will still be there in the morning."

"You're right," Brianna decided. She was starving, exhausted, and sore. She needed to go home. "Can you have a message sent to the Keep? Tell the Viscount I'll give him a full report first thing in the morning."

"Will do. Now go home," Varric told her, and she nodded, turning around and heading for Gamlen's, which was still home - for now.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Mardin, are you there?" After a hasty, but welcome bath in Gamlen's battered wooden tub, as well as the supper Mother had made, Brianna was laying in the room she'd once shared with Carver on the bottom bunk, the crystal in her hand. She was exhausted, wanting nothing more than to fall asleep, but she knew Mardin would want to know how things had gone, and might get worried if she didn't let him know before she slept.

There was a moment's pause before the crystal glowed blue, and Mardin's voice rang from it. "Brianna? You're all right then?"

She smiled. He sounded so concerned about her; surely that must be a good sign of his feelings for her? "Yes. That last fight with the elf and her mercenaries went fine; no one got hurt." She went on to give him a quick run-down of everything that had happened after the fight. She considered glossing over what the Arishok had said and how he'd acted, but in the end decided that Mardin had to know. "So I'm going to see the Viscount in the morning," she finished, "and let him know what the Arishok had to say."

There was another pause. She heard a thump sound, like he'd slammed his fist on something, followed by a few muttered foreign words that sounded like a curse. Finally he said, "I'm sorry."

She frowned at the crystal, surprised. "Why would you be sorry? The Qunari aren't your fault."

"No, but I should have been there. I'm supposed to be there helping you with the Qunari and anything major like this, and instead I was stuck on a ship, doing _nothing_. You could have died today. Or accidentally killed someone. And it would have been my fault," he muttered, sounding utterly disgusted with himself. "I should never have left."

"Yes, you should have," she disagreed with him. She should have known he'd blame himself for not being there to protect everyone; that was just how he was, so bound by his duty. "You needed to be there for your sister, and nothing was happening here while you were gone. It's just been this last day that something happened, and you're nearly back. Anyway, it's probably for the best that you weren't here for the gas. If you'd lost control under the influence of the gas, things could have been much worse. And you shouting through the crystal is part of what helped to snap me out of it before I did actually hurt someone. So it all worked out for the best, and you'll be here tomorrow to help."

"I suppose you have a point," he said after a moment, reluctance in his voice. "Goddess only knows how that gas would affect shifters. But I'm not leaving Kirkwall again. Not until we're sure everything is okay. Ayla and her family will just have to come to visit me instead."

"If that's what you want," she replied, stifling a yawn, "then that's fine. We'll all be happy to have you here, I'm sure. It's awfully cold in my bed, after all."

He groaned. "Please don't do that while I'm still stuck on the ship, I'm begging you."

She laughed softly, enjoying the tortured sound of his voice. "I can't help it; it's the truth."

"Well, then I'll warm you up thoroughly when I'm back. As soon as whatever business you have is finished tomorrow, I'm dragging you back to the mansion and my bed," he threatened.

She smiled. _I certainly hope so_. "For the whole night?" she teased.

"And most of the next day, if I have my way," he replied, sounding amused. "But you need to sleep now, Brianna. You sound exhausted."

"I am," she admitted, stifling another yawn, feeling her eyelids drooping against her will.

"Then sleep," he urged her softly. "I'll come find you as soon as my ship docks in the morning, I promise."

"I'll hold you to that," she told him. "Goodnight, Mardin."

"Goodnight, Brianna."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Brianna strolled into the Viscount's office late the next morning, leaving Varric, Fenris and Isabela waiting outside at the Seneschal's insistence. The Viscount was looking out the window, arms folded, but turned as she came in, his face lined with stress. "Years of nice, quiet anxiety . . . gone. Along with a whole street. Would you like to explain how that happened? I sent you to appease the Arishok!"

"Well, to be fair, the Qunari weren't the ones who killed all those people," Brianna replied evenly, before she went through everything that had happened yesterday, including the involvement of the strange elven woman.

"Right," Dumar said half-hysterically. "So it wasn't the Qunari, just a mad elf, pushed by zealots, likely hidden in the very groups I have to appease." He shook his head, walking over to his desk and leaning against the edge. "The Maker has a grand sense of humour. And the Arishok – I suspected he had no plans to leave. I didn't know it was just as annoying for him."

"He's likely to become dangerous soon," Brianna informed him reluctantly. "As a friend of mine pointed out, they're spoiling for blood, and anything could set them off. You need to keep everyone calm."

The Viscount sighed, putting a hand to his forehead. "Too late, I fear. It's a shame – he was making overtures of cordialness. Your influence, no doubt."

"Really?" Brianna exclaimed, shocked. After the way he'd acted yesterday, she would never have believed it. "What sort of overtures? What happened?"

"A Qunari delegate and entourage paid me a visit last night after you'd spoken to him. It was civil, tentative. Hopeful. They left my chambers with precision, but were not reported by the outer guard. They are missing almost literally from my doorstep. What, do you imagine, will be the Arishok's reaction?"

Brianna shook her head. This was exactly the kind of thing she'd been hoping to avoid; whoever was behind that elf was obviously working hard. "Not good. We need to find out what happened, and quickly."

"I feel I have been trying to turn a stampede for some time, now. Someone is pushing very hard." Dumar shook his head, looking despondent. "Speak with Seneschal Bran. Then you will see why I cannot trust anyone else with this. I don't know who will benefit from fighting the Qunari, but it will cost all of us."

"I'll look into right away," Brianna promised, turning and heading out of the room after the Viscount nodded. She needed to find this delegate, and fast; the absolute last thing she wanted was a Qunari war on her doorstep.

Varric and the others were waiting just outside the door, as ordered. Brianna gave them a quick run-down of what had happened, then marched over to the Seneschal immediately. He was waiting at his customary guard-dog position in the hallway in front of Dumar's door. "You have information about the missing Qunari?" Brianna demanded.

"I am to help you, yes," Bran replied coolly. "Viscount Dumar would appreciate discretion in this matter. I would prefer that you are not involved at all, but that is neither here nor there."

Brianna sighed, choosing to ignore his rudeness altogether. "I have to say, I'm having difficulty picturing anyone abducting one Qunari, let alone an entourage. How exactly did it happen?"

"Unfortunately, they were not at their best. Their swords were tied into their sheaths. As I advised," Bran admitted reluctantly. "It seemed a respectful compromise. Even I know you cannot separate a Qunari from his weapon."

Well, that explained it. Anyone would be at a disadvantage trying to untie their weapon, no matter how strong. Especially if they were outnumbered, Brianna thought. She needed to find them, and quickly. "Has anyone reported this to the Qunari?" she demanded, wondering if she'd need to deal with a bunch of Qunari searching as well.

The Seneschal shook his head fervently. "Maker, no. I'd be signing the messenger's death warrant. He'll find out soon enough, of course. And when he does, the Viscount is rightly concerned that the illusion of peace will dissolve."

"Do you have any information I can use? You must have some suspicions," Brianna said, hoping that the Seneschal would be able to point her in the direction of whoever was so determined to start this war with the Qunari.

"My concerns are well-founded," Bran replied. "This could not have escaped the notice of the city guard, unless they were involved. Not coincidentally, a number of recent recruits have failed to report this morning. You should start with one of them. Although, where you find a swordsman so eager to sell his honor and his duty, I'm sure I don't know."

"The Hanged Man," Varric and Fenris said simultaneously, causing Brianna to look at them in amusement as Isabela chimed in, "Definitely."

"Right," Bran drawled. "Then you know what to look for. I can't imagine this has occurred without notice. There is always a weak link." He waved his hand as if to indicate that they were dismissed.

Brianna turned and headed down the stairs towards the main doors, the others following. "You two seemed very certain we'd find these guards at the Hanged Man."

"There's some idiot there who's been flashing around money all night," Varric replied. "He was still at it when we left."

"He was not wearing the armor of the city guard, but he did have their standard issue sword and shield with him," Fenris added. "I would suspect he is the one you are looking for, as I do not recall seeing him amongst the guard before."

Brianna sighed, shaking her head. "Aveline's going to be pissed about this."

"Shouldn't someone tell Lady Man-hands about her easily bribed recruits?" Isabela asked.

"We need to make sure we're right about this first, and find out if he knows anything about where the Qunari might be." Brianna pushed open the door, heading down the stairs of the Keep at a rapid pace. "Once we know for sure who it is, we'll turn him in to one of the guards."

"We'd better hurry, then, before he gets tired of drinking," Varric advised.

They hurried towards Lowtown, reaching it and the Hanged Man in little time. They were just approaching the door when they heard a voice shouting. "Hey, Brianna! Everybody!"

Brianna halted, turning towards the sound of the voice, and smiled when she saw she was right. Mardin was trotting towards them from the direction of the docks, still wearing the drakescale armor she'd talked him into buying, his sword and shield strapped to his back, his hair looking a little windblown. "Mardin!" she exclaimed, waving to him.

"Red! Good to see you again!" Varric called as the others added their own greetings.

Mardin stopped only a foot away from Brianna; from the intense look in his eyes and the way his hand reached out for her, almost reflexively, she half-expected him to scoop her up there and then. But he halted, pulling his hand back, and settled for smiling instead. "Nice to see you all again. I'm glad I decided to check the Hanged Man first."

"Oh, don't stop on our account, handsome," Isabela told him, smiling. "You feel free to greet Hawke properly."

Mardin laughed, his eyes blazing briefly as they met Brianna's, looking almost feral, before he shook his head. "I'd love to, but I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to stop once I got started."

Brianna felt a flush of either embarrassment or desire, or possibly both, building up on her face, but she ignored it and Varric's hoot of laughter as she said, "That will have to wait until later. We're on a bit of a time crunch right now." She quickly explained to him about the missing Qunari delegate, and the guard they were hoping to find in the tavern.

Mardin nodded when she'd finished, looking determined. "Sounds like we need to find these Qunari fast. I'm ready."

"Let us go then," Fenris said, pushing open the bar door, "before he leaves."

Fortunately, it appeared the man had not left; Brianna saw who they were talking about the moment they entered the dimly lit bar, the door swinging shut behind them. Despite the early hour, there were still several people at the tables drinking and playing cards. Some were probably still going from the night before. One man was up at the bar, shouting at Corff to buy a round for everyone, tossing coins from a pouch down onto the bar. Though he wore only a tunic and breeches, Fenris had been right; there was a guardsman-issue sword and shield strapped to his back. Brianna headed straight over to him, the others all following.

"Well, you're throwing coins around like there's no tomorrow," Isabela remarked as they stopped a few feet away.

The man turned to look at them, swaying a bit, his green eyes bleary and his strawberry blonde hair and moustache mussed and dirty as he slurred, "That's right, woman. I'm paid and blessed. And all I had to do was turn my head." He turned to the rest of the bar, hefting up the bottle in his hand as he called, "To all my friends!"

Brianna moved closer to him, shooting him an easy smile, but he frowned at her. "Hey, step back. I know important people. We're going to show this city what to do with heathen oxmen."

Brianna gave a quick glance to the others, rolling her eyes; they definitely had the right man. She turned back to the guard, still smiling. "Someone has deep pockets. I want an introduction."

The guard pointed the bottle at her. "Somebody always wants something. But I don't have to take that anymore. Three horn heads are just a start. You want some of this? Take it from me and my new friends!"

One of the other drunks at the table shouted, "You're on your own, pal!" The other patrons chuckled, remaining seated; most of them were regulars who knew well enough to avoid a fight with Brianna or any of her friends by now.

"That's loyalty for you," the guard slurred. "Come on!" He drew his sword and readied his shield, advancing towards them, though none of the other patrons moved to help him.

Mardin stepped in between Brianna and the advancing man, not even bothering to draw his own sword. "I've got this."

"Don't knock him out cold," Brianna reminded him. "We need answers."

Mardin nodded, advancing toward the guard, who slurred, "Don't you want your sword?" He waved his around in emphasis.

Mardin shook his head. "Don't need it." He dodged to the side as the other man swung his sword clumsily, grabbing the man's arm just below the wrist and twisting hard. There was an audible sound of bones snapping; Brianna winced in sympathy as the man shrieked in pain, dropping his sword. He tried to swing his shield at Mardin, who side-stepped that, too, before punching him in the stomach. The guard went down hard on the floor, and Mardin kicked his shield away before lifting him up by the collar with one hand, dangling him a foot off the ground. "Feel more like chatting now?"

The guard kicked and struggled, whining piteously, not immediately replying, but gave up after a moment when he couldn't work himself loose. Brianna stepped up to Mardin's side, looking up at the guard. "We don't have to do this, you know. Just answer a couple of questions, and he'll put you down. Don't answer, well . . ." She shrugged. Mardin lifted him higher, and the man shrieked. "Okay, okay! What do you want to know?"

"Someone gave you all that coin you're tossing around, right?" Brianna prompted. When he nodded, she pressed, "What for? Who?"

"I just did what he said," the guard whined, kicking his legs a little. "It was more coin than I've ever seen."

"Come on," Brianna coaxed. "Someone so generous, they deserve recognition."

The guard didn't answer immediately, but when Mardin pulled his other arm back, ready to deliver another punch, he cried out, "Templar! It was a Templar. I didn't get the name. We met near the Chantry. He . . . he said taking these Qunari was serving the Maker. I swear, he even had the seal of the Grand Cleric! True is true!"

Mardin let go, and the guard fell to the floor hard, crying out when he landed. He curled into a ball, whimpering. "You stay there," Brianna informed him. "We'll be sending a guard that does their job to bring you to your captain."

She turned to Varric, who nodded. "Got you covered, Hawke. I'll send someone to find a guard for this poor idiot. I'll meet you outside." He headed for the door.

"You have got to be kidding me," Isabela said, throwing up her hands as they followed Varric out. "A Templar?"

"Supposedly serving the Grand Cleric," Brianna sighed. "Guess we're going to the Chantry, then." She looked over at Mardin. "He was telling the truth, right?"

Mardin nodded. "My instincts didn't go off, so he wasn't trying to betray us. That was the truth – at least as he knew it."

"It would hardly be the first time we have encountered a Chantry member working against the Qunari," Fenris pointed out.

"That's true," Brianna agreed as they headed outside, waiting while Varric paid one of his spies to go find a nearby guard to arrest the one inside, then inform Aveline about him. "And Dumar thought it was likely religious zealots. We'll just have to find out which ones."

As soon as Varric was done, they headed for Hightown and entered the Chantry, which was rather deserted at this time of day, as most of the services weren't until the afternoon. Still, there was a sister kneeling by the candles at the base of the first statue as they came in, and Brianna approached her. "The Grand Cleric, please," she requested. "Tell her . . . tell her it concerns the Qunari."

The sister nodded, getting up and heading for the nearby stairs while Brianna and the others waited by the statue. The sister had barely left when Mardin gave a faint warning growl, and a voice drawled, "Serah Hawke."

Brianna turned in surprise. "Sister Petrice?"

"Mother Petrice," the woman corrected, looking – and sounding – as odious as she had during the incident with Ketojan. "Time has changed us both. Grand Cleric Elthina cannot grant an audience to just anyone. What do you want?"

Brianna smiled, having the sudden feeling that she knew exactly who was behind all the recent troubles with the Qunari, especially given the look on Mardin's face. "Funny how you and issues with the Qunari seem to go together," she said casually.

"And you always assume their side," Petrice retorted. "I was naive when last we met. I did not want you dead, but I felt a death was necessary. That may be too fine a point for you to understand, but you must admit you came out the better for it."

Brianna shook her head, unable to believe the woman's nerve. "Only because we managed to be skilled enough not to die. Anyway, I know someone is abusing the Grand Cleric's seal, and look, here you are."

"Who are you to question who serves Her Grace?" Petrice sneered. "I am sorry, but I see no reason to let you pass."

"How about the fact that her authority was used to abduct Qunari?" Brianna asked, smiling when Petrice's eyes narrowed, but her mouth stayed shut for once. "A pause that says you knew. But does Her Grace?"

"The Grand Cleric trusts her stewards to enact the wishes of the Maker," Petrice retorted, though she sounded less than sure.

Brianna lifted her eyebrows in mock surprise. "Does she? I doubt she will anymore when I tell her about this."

Petrice turned away, muttering under her breath, "Stubborn . . ." She turned back, meeting Brianna's gaze. "All right, Serah Hawke, if you won't abandon this, let me offer you something. The Templar you seek is a radical who has grown . . . unreliable. Confronting him may do us all a favour."

_Probably someone who is doing your exact bidding while you throw him to the wolves_. "And he is what to you?"

"He is my former bodyguard, Ser Varnell. Assume what you wish, but I offer him to you as . . . reconciliation. Meet me at this location." Petrice dug a piece of parchment out of her robes, handing it over to Brianna, who took it reluctantly. "I invite you, Serah Hawke. Come see the unrest these Qunari have inspired," she finished grandly before sweeping away.

Mardin snorted as soon as she was out of earshot. "More like the unrest she's inspired. I knew I'd get to kill Varnell one day, though. I could kill her, too," he offered. "Every instinct tells me she's behind all of this."

Brianna sighed. The idea was very tempting, given how much damage Petrice would cause if she had her way, but . . . "No. I agree she probably is, but it's too dangerous. She's not the type you can arrange a hunting accident for. We'll play it her way for now, see if she lets something slip that we can use."

Varric cleared his throat. "That's a set-up." He nodded at the piece of paper. "Where is it? Another hideout of hers in Lowtown?"

Brianna looked down at the map. "Darktown, actually."

"Set-up or not, the missing Qunari are certain to be there," Fenris said.

"Which means we'd better get going," Brianna agreed, "before they're all dead."

They immediately headed out from the Chantry and went straight to the marked location where Petrice claimed Varnell was. Similar to the last time they'd done a favour for the woman, they ended up in a series of underground tunnels filled with horrible-smelling debris. Brianna noticed the grimace on Mardin's face the instant they entered; he kept one hand up over his nose as they made their way through the wooden tunnels.

"So," Isabela murmured as they crept through the tunnels. "Looking for a room full of armed zealots."

"Petrice is here somewhere," Brianna whispered back. "She said she'd meet us here. And we should find Varnell at the end, also."

Isabela nodded, spinning a dagger in one hand. "Looking forward to it."

"As am I," Mardin agreed, his other hand hovering by his sword hilt.

A short while after entering the tunnels, they arrived at a set of rickety wooden stairs that led up to the next level. Brianna led the way up the stairs, around a corner, and down a hallway. The hallway opened up into a large, open room with an immense post in the back corner. Tied to the post were the missing Qunari; at least two dozen people surrounded them, jeering and shouting, as a Templar stood at the head of the crowd, only feet away from one of the Qunari. No one appeared to have noticed them yet, too intent on the Qunari and the Templar who had to be Varnell, as he shouted, "Like any beast, remove the fangs and it is lost. They are weak before the faithful of the Maker. The only certainty in their precious Qun is death before the righteous."

Mardin shook his head as they hurried forward, looking disgusted as he muttered, "Yeah, it's so righteous to ambush people and tie them to pillars after you've bribed guards."

Brianna snorted in agreement. "Righteous appears to be loosely defined for them."

They were only a few feet away from the outer edge of the crowd by this point, just in time to see Varnell punch the bound Qunari behind him in the stomach. The Qunari grimaced briefly, but quickly raised his head and glared venomously at Varnell. Brianna halted, opening her mouth to address the rogue Templar, but was interrupted by a voice exclaiming, "Ser Varnell!"

Brianna turned, frowning, and sure enough, there was Petrice herself, storming up in her robes with an outraged expression plastered on her face as she halted next to them.

Varnell came forward and gestured to the crowd. "Take a knee, faithful. The Chantry blesses us."

"You claim a blessing when you have used the authority of the Grand Cleric so openly?" Petrice declared loudly. "You have brought wrath down upon you. You remember Serah Hawke?" She swept her hand grandly at Brianna, who rolled her eyes. Clearly the woman had missed her calling in the theatre. "The Qunari have friends, Templar. How will you answer their allegations?"

"Only cowards would attack someone who's tied up and unable to fight back," Mardin said, pulling his shield off his back. "And someone who abducts and attacks another for no crime other than being who they are needs to die."

Brianna nodded, thoroughly disgusted with the treatment of the Qunari. She might be wary of the Arishok's ultimate goal, but she definitely didn't agree with this. She pulled her staff off her back as the others drew their weapons. "You want a fight? Face someone whose weapons are not bound!"

Varnell whirled around behind him, pulling out a dagger and slashing the throat of the Qunari behind him, blood spurting up and pooling on the ground below. He dropped the dagger and drew his own sword as he bellowed, "Righteous! Destroy them!"

Brianna only caught a short glimpse of Petrice turning around and running away before she turned to face the onrushing crowd of armed and angry citizens, dropping an explosive fire spell into the middle of them. Varric hurled a grenade before readying Bianca and firing a volley of bolts into the crowd. A smoke bomb appeared in another section as Isabela moved in to attack, and Fenris raced forward into the crowd, a blue blur accompanied by falling bodies all that Brianna could see of him as he went.

"Keep away from Varnell," Mardin hissed at her. "Let me handle him." With that, he charged forward, slamming aside anyone in his way as he moved through the crowd towards Varnell. Fortunately, the Templar seemed equally focused on him, and soon their swords and shields were clashing together in a rapid dance.

Brianna didn't see any reason to disagree; there was certainly no need for her to go anywhere near the full-fledged Templar. She'd never had one of them smite her before, and she didn't have any desire to change that today. She moved back by Varric, and proceeded to shoot blasts of ice or lightning at the enraged citizens trying to overwhelm her friends, while simultaneously working to keep everyone healed. She and her friends were quite outnumbered, and she suspected Petrice had been banking on them getting killed. However, none of the zealots here were particularly skilled, with the exception of Varnell, and her party was making short work of them.

As for Varnell himself, while his skill level appeared to be roughly equal to Mardin's, at least from what Brianna could tell, it was obvious his strength wasn't. Though he was often catching Mardin's sword on his shield, the sheer power behind Mardin's blows was steadily driving him back and wearing him out. Finally, just as the others were finishing up with the last of the zealots, Mardin struck such a hard blow that Varnell cried out and dropped his shield. Before he could recover, Mardin had bashed him in the face with his own shield, sending the Templar over backwards. Mardin batted aside Varnell's sword as he tried to lift it in defense, before slamming his own sword straight down through the man's armoured chest, rending it in two. He yanked the sword out and slashed Varnell's head off before turning and checking the remainder of the crowd. Brianna zapped one more zealot rushing at Mardin with a lightning blast, frying the man and sending him twitching to the ground.

"Are any of the Qunari okay?" Brianna demanded, striding forward as she strapped her staff onto her back.

Varric, who'd run over to the pillar to check as soon as the way was clear, shook his head. "Sorry, Hawke. The bastards got them all."

Brianna sighed, shaking her head as she looked around at the carnage before them. All this, and they hadn't even managed to save any of the delegates. She could only hope that the Arishok would be satisfied with the elimination of most of the zealots. "All right. Time to bring this mess to the Viscount's attention. Varric, can you go send one of your people to fetch him and some guards while we start cleaning this mess up?"

"Sure thing, Hawke."

\------------------------------------------------------

The Viscount arrived not twenty minutes later with several city guards, after Mardin and Fenris had untied the bodies of the Qunari and laid them out on the ground, while Brianna and the others had assisted in getting the other bodies more neatly arranged as well. The Viscount halted in the center of the room, looking around in horror at all the bodies they'd laid out. "Madness. Madness!"

Brianna nodded in agreement. "It is, Your Excellency." She explained briefly what she'd found out since she'd left his office that morning, ending with Varnell and his followers managing to kill the delegate before they could stop them.

The Viscount shook his head, staring down at Varnell's body. "Chantry involvement . . . even if they are fringe elements. It could not be worse."

"Sure it could," Isabela said cheerfully. "You could suddenly realize you're completely naked, or something." She chuckled, and Brianna shook her head at the pirate, mouthing "Not now" at her.

Fortunately, Dumar either seemed to have not heard her, or had chosen to ignore her, as he'd moved on to look at the fallen Qunari. He stared at them for a long moment, closing his eyes briefly and shaking his head before he turned back to Brianna. "You killed them. All of them?"

Realizing that he was talking about the anti-Qunari faction, Brianna nodded. "Well, everybody that was here. I'm quite certain a mother serving the Grand Cleric had a hand in it, too."

The Viscount frowned. "Are you quite sure? She held a blade with them? Told them to fight you?"

Brianna sighed. Damn Petrice and her acting. "No, I cannot say that," she admitted reluctantly.

"She just neatly arranged the whole thing from behind the scenes before running off," Mardin added in a tone of disgust.

"Of course there's no solid evidence. A blasted mother . . ." Dumar shook his head once more, looking exhausted. "You have no idea the storm these allegations would cause. It would destroy what support I do have."

"I have had trouble with her before," Brianna warned him. She knew there was nothing that could be done against Petrice right now until there was actual proof, but the woman was also too dangerous to leave entirely alone. "She is . . . slippery. And I don't imagine she'll stay quiet forever."

The Viscount nodded. "I understand. I will make my inquiries. Gently. And you should be careful in your associations. For now, we have other problems." He looked back at the Qunari once more. "We have the delegate, but . . . I can't return the bodies to the Qunari in this state. Serah Hawke, you know the Arishok. What should I do?"

Brianna had already asked Fenris his opinion on the matter as they'd been laying the bodies out, and he had told her that the Qunari would prefer the facts to a cover-up, reinforcing her opinion that she had to keep being honest and courteous to the Arishok if she wanted to keep from angering him. She met Dumar's gaze evenly as she replied, "Hiding this would only make it worse. He'll find out eventually, and would be even angrier if we lied about it."

The Viscount turned away, his shoulders drooping. "He would, wouldn't he? I am losing my sense of how to balance this nightmare." He rubbed his forehead before turning back to face Brianna. "I appreciate your help in this matter. As bad as this is, it could have been much worse without you. Kirkwall owes you. I owe you." He held out his hand, and Brianna shook it formally. "You may go now. I'll have the guard take care of the rest of this mess, and I'll speak to the Arishok myself. Thank you."

Brianna gave him a brief bow. "You are most welcome, Your Excellency. Please let me know if you need anything else." With that, she gestured to the others and walked away, relieved to be done with this Qunari business for the moment.

Once they were out of earshot of the Viscount, heading for the entrance to the tunnel, Varric declared, "How about heading back to the Hanged Man for a very late lunch and some Wicked Grace?"

Isabela jingled her coin pouch. "Sounds great. I have this extra coin now, after all."

"I would appreciate the chance to win back my money from the other night," Fenris agreed.

"Not tonight, I'm afraid. I have a promise to keep," Mardin said. Brianna met his gaze, seeing that blazing, near-feral look in his eyes once more, which sent a shiver of anticipation through her – and a blush over her face as Isabela let out a low whistle and Varric smirked.

"Yes, sorry, Varric, I have plans," Brianna added.

He snorted. "I'll bet you do."

They had exited the tunnels by now, so Brianna grabbed Mardin's hand and waved a quick goodbye to the others, fighting the blush on her face. "We'll see you tomorrow."

"Late tomorrow, I hope?" Varric yelled after them, followed by Isabela's shout of, "Do everything that I would do!"

Brianna ignored both of them and just kept walking faster, though Mardin called back, "Very late tomorrow, if I have my way!" This was followed by more whistling and cheering, but soon he was the one tugging her along, heading for the steps to Hightown. "I do have three months to make up for, after all," he murmured to her as they went.

She smiled, her embarrassment rapidly giving way to anticipation. "And I am very much looking forward to it."


	22. Head-spin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mardin and Brianna finally get some private time after 3 months apart. Aveline asks Brianna for help in an important quest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is smut at the beginning of this one, you can skip down to the first break if you don't wish to read it. The rest of the chapter is pretty light-hearted fare involving my favorite Aveline quest. And here's a little snippet of the song that inspired the title, as it describes how our two leads are feeling at the beginning:
> 
> He said please just don't stop  
> Please don't stop until I'm screaming your name  
> It's a head-spin until we're both insane again  
> Don't stop 'til I'm screaming your name  
> He said I just won't stop  
> I won't stop 'til you're screaming my name  
> It's a head-spin until we're both insane again  
> Don't stop 'til I'm screaming your name
> 
> The song is Head-spin by Butcher Babies. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 22: Head-spin

Mardin had dealt with the animal inside him most of his life. All of his life, if one were to ask some of his countrymen, who believed that any child born to a shifter was tainted. But certainly, he'd dealt with it since he was sixteen and had gained his animal kin and his shifting abilities. Yet in all that time, he'd never felt quite so wild as he did now, like a starving animal stalking its prey. Which was not, he supposed, inaccurate; he was starving with lust, and his prey was within his grasp.

Her hand was within his as she tugged him along through the streets of Hightown, towards the mansion and his room there. Even the touch of her hand in his was making him tingle in anticipation, and the only thing holding him back was the knowledge that Brianna probably didn't want him ravishing her in the middle of Hightown with so many people around. He hadn't been joking when he'd said earlier that if he greeted her the way he wanted to, he wouldn't be able to stop. That was why he hadn't allowed himself to touch her until now. Only by not touching her at all and by throwing himself into battle with abandon had he been able to keep himself from pouncing on her. As soon as they were within the door of the mansion, he wouldn't be able to hold back any longer, he felt certain.

He was choosing not to examine why he felt so desperate for her, for the feel of her silky skin against his, her breasts in his hands, the taste of her mouth and her arousal, which was truly finer and rarer than any wine, or the sounds she made when he moved within her, especially when she cried out his name . . . he shook his head fiercely. If he didn't stop thinking about it, about how he wanted to have her any and every way he could imagine until the wild lust within him was quelled, he wouldn't make it to the mansion. It was simply because he'd not had her, or any woman at all, for over three months, he assured himself. It had nothing to do with her in particular, nor did the fact that he'd not even been tempted to stray in Ferelden mean anything, despite the lovely women that he'd seen there. He just hadn't grown tired of her company yet; how could he, when he hadn't even seen her in so long, let alone touched her?

She glanced back over her shoulder at him as she kept tugging him behind her, her gorgeous violet eyes sparkling as she grinned at him. "Aren't you even going to say anything?" she teased him. "'It's so nice to see you again, Brianna' or 'I've been waiting for this', for example?"

_Have I ever._ He shuddered, his body drawing up tight with desire, his cock already aching to feel her. How many times had he pleasured himself in Ferelden, thinking of her, of their times together before, or of the words she'd written to him? Or there had been that one explosive time over the sending crystal; he really hadn't expected the astonishing effect the sound of her voice saying his name would have on him after so long apart. Still, it was nothing compared to actually being here with her, and he felt like he might burst from the anticipation of it. "I'm not . . ." he hesitated, picking his words carefully. "I'm not going to be able to take things slow. At all. So I'll apologize in advance for it."

She gave him a slow smile, heating his blood all through. "Did I say I wanted things slow?"

"Goddess," he breathed, clenching his other hand tightly to keep himself from throwing her over his shoulder and running the rest of the way. "You need to move faster. A lot faster."

Her eyes widened slightly as they met his, then darkened; probably from the look on his face, he guessed as she nodded, agreeing breathlessly, "I think I really do."

And then she was nearly running, and so was he, until they'd crossed the remaining distance to the mansion door. Mardin hastily dug the key out of his pouch, unlocking the door, and Brianna slipped through the instant he'd pulled it open. He hurried in after her, slamming and locking the door before he turned to her. "Sorry," was all he got out before he whirled her around and shoved her up against the door, hauling her up and locking his mouth onto hers.

_Oh Goddess, yes. That taste . . ._ He nearly shuddered in relief at the taste of her mouth beneath his, at the way she opened instantly to him, matching his tongue stroke for stroke as she wrapped her legs around his waist, rolling her hips against him. He growled into her mouth, gripping her ass tightly with one hand, squeezing and caressing and rubbing himself against her, fire swirling through him as he threaded his other hand through the waves of her hair, angling her head as he ravaged her mouth hungrily.

Her hands were roaming all over him, kneading and gripping and tugging impatiently at his armor, though they were pressed so closely together she couldn't get anything undone, and he couldn't seem to stop kissing her long enough to get her robes off, either. It wasn't until she pinched his ass, causing him to yelp and buck against her, that he jerked his mouth off hers, panting for breath and staring down at her in lust and astonished delight.

"Can't . . . get undressed . . . like this," she managed between panting breaths, giving him a cheeky grin.

He kneaded her ass again, thrusting her hard into the door, aching with the need to feel her naked and writhing against him, and yet somehow unable to put her down at the same time. "Need you now," he got out breathlessly as she squirmed against him, desire pounding through his body. "If you undress here, I'll take you here. Right against the door."

"Good," she said, eyes flaring as she looked up at him. He gaped wordlessly at her for a moment, feeling the bear within him roaring its approval as his grip on her tightened. She leaned up to murmur in his ear, "I said good. So put me down so we can get undressed."

He scrambled to comply, nearly dropping her in his haste to set her down, but managed to catch himself at the last moment and lower her to the ground before he pulled back only enough to strip off his sword, shield, boots and armor hastily. He undressed so quickly, in fact, that he finished even before Brianna, advancing on her as she dropped her breeches and smallclothes to the ground. She was reaching for her breastband when he gripped her hands, pulling them away before he simply ripped it right off her, tearing it in two before filling his hands with her breasts, caressing them and rubbing at her nipples as he backed her against the door once more.

"Mardin," she gasped, arching towards him, and when he felt how wet she already was against the head of his cock, he quite simply lost his remaining control.

He scooped her up, and without any further preamble, buried himself within her, moaning aloud in blessed relief at the velvety feel of her, at the heat of her closing around his aching length as she cried out, locking her legs tightly around his waist as she moved to meet him. Far from being upset at his sudden intrusion, she gripped his hair in one hand and pulled his mouth down to hers, kissing him with a fierce want that matched his own as the nails of her other hand dug into his shoulder.

He pounded into her, driven by the wild desperation that was filling him, needing to feel her come around him, needing to hear her cry out his name, needing to explode within her before he'd be able to breathe properly again. He didn't care if the whole mansion crumbled down around them, so long as he could have that.

He pulled his mouth away from hers, trailing it down her neck, his teeth grazing the side of her neck until he reached the curve of her shoulder, biting down hard, driven by the need to claim her. She gasped, her hips stuttering in the pounding rhythm she'd been matching him in, her body clenching around him, and he froze, realizing that he'd never actually bit her before, at least not like that. He'd found that non-shifter women tended not to appreciate it at all, and so he'd been careful never to do it to her before now, certain that he'd frighten her off. He raised his eyes to her, panicked. "I'm sorry, Brianna, I –"

"Do it again," she said lowly, her eyes blazing at him.

"What?" he blinked at her, astonished, certain he'd not heard her correctly.

"I said, do it again," she repeated, before sinking her teeth into his own shoulder, causing his hips to jerk and fiery want to surge through his body at the feeling of her breaking through his skin, marking him. "I want it all, Mardin. Everything you have to give."

Lust spiralled alarmingly high in him, nearly making him burst then and there, and it was only through sheer force of will that he didn't. "Don't regret saying that later," he warned her, not even giving her a chance to reply before he kissed her hard, nipping at her bottom lip and resuming a brutal pace, slamming her into the door with the force of his thrusts.

"I won't," she managed as soon as his mouth left hers, and then she let out a keening cry as he bit down on her other shoulder, her walls rippling around him and her nails raking down his back, sinking into his ass, making him moan against her skin.

"Goddess, I missed you so much," he growled, nipping at her breast, angling her higher and thrusting more deeply into her, trailing his free hand up and down her side as he moved. He was so drunk on the feel of her, the smell of her arousal coating him, that he didn't even register that he'd said 'you' and not 'this' as he'd meant to.

She shuddered, tightening around him at his words and bucking against him wildly as she came, crying out, "Oh, Mardin," before sinking her teeth into his shoulder once more, followed by the soothing burst of her magic flowing through him from her release. The combined sensations were enough to trigger a violent climax in him, making him slam her one last time against the door as he came, spilling his seed deeply within her as he cried out her name in turn.

He stood there, unmoving, for a long moment, one hand braced against the door while the other kept her clutched tightly to him, still keeping her firmly between the door and himself as he buried his face in her hair, breathing in the scent of it. Still vanilla and lemon, he thought, inhaling deeply. "I'm not done with you yet," he warned her, feeling his cock stirring to life inside her again at the smell of her hair and the feel of her plastered to his body, simultaneously worrying that she'd regret what she said to him about wanting it all.

"I would hope not," she replied, sounding both amused and a trifle breathless still. He raised his head to look at her, and she gave him a warm smile as she caressed his back with one hand, the other remaining looped around his neck. "I believe you made me a promise about all night and possibly some of tomorrow, too."

He grinned, flooded with relief at the fact that she looked lazily content, and not at all frightened of the rough way he'd just treated her. Was it any wonder he hadn't tired of her yet, when she always embraced the animal inside of him so easily? And though the interlude against the door had calmed some of the wild desperation inside of him, it still wasn't fully satisfied, especially not after what she'd said. Still, he felt certain he was calm enough now to make it to his bed with her.

With that in mind, he pulled back from the door, though he didn't let go of her, and she clutched him tightly to keep her balance as he began to walk.

"Um, Mardin," she began, her face beginning to turn red, which appealed to him just as much as her demanding nature earlier, "are you really going to carry me like this?"

He grinned, knowing she was referring to the fact that he was still buried inside her as he carefully walked along, both his hands now firmly on her luscious backside to keep her pressed tightly against him as he made his way down the hallway. "It seems I am."

"But . . . why?"

"I told you," he stopped long enough to press a kiss to her lips, nibbling on them briefly before he pulled back and continued, "I'm not nearly done with you yet."

"Oh. Well then," she wriggled against him a little, causing him to harden a bit more inside her with a groan as she gave him a devious smile, though she was still flushed pink, "good."

"Do you want me to drop you?" he threatened with a growl when she did it again, nearly halting him in his tracks as he tried to manage the spike of want flowing through him.

She grinned. "I suppose not, at least not until we get to the bed."

Though she didn't wriggle deliberately on the rest of the way down the hallway and into his room, by the time he'd reached the bed, the simple act of carrying her that way while walking had him hard and ready to go again. But, he was struck with a sudden and powerful urge as he saw the rumpled bedding, remembering that she'd slept there before while he was gone and how she'd claimed to want it all. He'd give it to her, then, and do something else he'd not done to her yet, because he'd known the act of taking her that way would make the urge to bite her too strong.

He set her down on the edge of the bed, pulling out of her, though he felt a sense of loss at doing so, and she moaned in protest too. "I thought you weren't done with me yet?"

"I'm not," he told her, anticipation thrumming through his body. "I just . . . want to take you a little differently. On your hands and knees, this time."

"Really?" She looked up at him, clearly intrigued, before she nodded and scooted backwards onto the bed, turning herself around until she was arranged on her hands and knees, her backside facing him. She tossed him a saucy glance over her shoulder when he merely stood there for a moment, astonished that she'd agreed so easily. "What are you waiting for?"

"Not a damn thing," he replied, lust rocketing through his body at the sight of her. He jumped up on the bed behind her, kneeling for a moment as he curved his hands over her ass, sliding them down her legs and parting her further for him, groaning aloud at the intoxicating smell of her arousal wafting to him.

How he'd missed that smell, and Goddess, that taste. He leaned in, inhaling deeply before slipping his tongue inside briefly to taste her, moaning right along with her at the desire that surged through him. He lapped and suckled at her briefly before he pulled back, ignoring her protest as he decided that he could no longer wait to be inside her again.

Though, when he got up on his knees behind her and guided himself to her slick entrance, he did take a moment to tease her with the head of his cock before he slammed inside, hard and fast, eliciting a sharp cry from her as she rocked forward. She almost immediately rocked backward, however, forcing him deeper inside, and he let out a long moan before he leaned over, pressing his face between her shoulder blades.

He halted there for a moment, simply taking in the feel of her, before he lifted his head a little and swept the waves of her hair aside, baring the nape of her neck to him. The need that swelled inside him at the sight of her tender skin there was almost overwhelming; he pulled back, long and slow and nearly came out of her, before he thrust forward hard and swift, leaning down to sink his teeth into the nape of her neck at the same time. He bit down deep, sucking the skin of her neck into his mouth, laving it with his tongue as she cried out sharply, her hips bucking against him and her back arching.

He pulled back, gripping her hips as he began to move in her again, steady but rough, driving himself home in her again and again as he gripped her hips tightly, his gaze fixated on the mark of his teeth on her neck. "Sorry," he managed between thrusts. "I . . . needed to do that."

"I said . . . I wanted it all . . . and I meant it," was her reply, ending in a gasp as he reached below to toy with her nub, rubbing slow and steady circles into it as he kept moving.

"Can you . . . can you not heal that one?" He didn't know why he asked the question, only that the sight of the mark there delighted him. "Is that something you can do, heal all of them but that one?"

"Yes, I can do that." She kept rocking back into him, working to keep her balance even as she met him, thrust for thrust. "If you want it there, I'll keep it there."

"Good," he growled, feeling desire winding tight in his gut at her words and promise; he was close to bursting again. "I need you to come for me. Now." He leaned forward, using the hand still on her hip to shift her and change his angle, sliding in just a little deeper as he pressed down hard on her nub.

"Mardin!" she cried out, her hips stuttering as she clenched and pulsed around him, the sensations and burst of her magic through him once more finishing him off as he shuddered, emptying deep inside her in a haze of ecstasy as he collapsed over her back, thinking that now he might finally be able to breathe properly again, though he still wasn't nearly done with her.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Brianna woke up late the next morning with Mardin pressed to her back, his arm snug around her waist and one leg thrown heavily over hers. He was snoring loudly, yet she couldn't find it in herself to be annoyed at the sound. She simply felt . . . content. And, okay, she was fairly sore also. He had, after all, made damn good on his promise of all night and into the morning, both of them only getting brief, broken bits of sleep through most of the night until somewhere around dawn, when they had both finally been too exhausted to keep going, and had succumbed to proper sleep.

She couldn't regret it, though. It had been an amazing night, and though she'd known that she missed him – and missed this – she hadn't realized just how much until he'd been back. She had thoroughly enjoyed every minute, even the parts she hadn't known she would, like him biting her. It had hurt, certainly, but she'd gotten just as much electric pleasure out of it as pain, and had been surprised at how much it aroused her.

She'd realized, too, when she'd seen the panic in his eyes when he'd first done it, that he'd expected it to frighten her off, and he clearly hadn't meant to do it. It was only then that she'd realized he'd been holding part of himself back with her before he'd left, restraining his natural instincts, hiding who he really was, and she didn't want that. She didn't want him to feel like he had to do that. She knew all too well how it felt to have to hold part of yourself back from a lover, and she never wanted to do that to anyone else. Until Mardin, she'd never been able to relax enough with a man to truly experience the release that caused her magic to burst out; she'd always been too afraid of what they'd think. But he'd always accepted her mage nature so wholeheartedly that it hadn't occurred to her to hold back, and not only had he not been frightened of the burst of her magic, he'd always seemed to enjoy it and try his hardest to make her keep doing it.

So she'd simply wanted to return the favour when she'd told him she wanted everything, and she'd sincerely meant it, especially when she'd found she actually enjoyed it. And he'd seemed to be so happy about it that there was no way she could regret it, especially not when it had turned out so amazingly for her. He'd even said that he missed her, and not in the 'I-miss-you-in-my-bed' way he'd said before over the crystal, but in a way that had sounded far more fervent and sincere. She had the feeling he hadn't even realized what he'd said, he'd been so wild with lust. She'd realized the significance of it immediately, though; it had caused such a burst of desire and elation in her that it had triggered her release. And she felt sure that both him saying that and the way he'd been so wild and needy for her meant that he had greater feelings for her than he realized. It gave her hope that she might be able to keep him at her side, which she was now very certain she wanted to do, for she had not felt this content, this relaxed and happy, in a long time, perhaps ever.

But, she realized, she was also very hungry, so she was going to have to move. She went to gently disentangle herself from him, but he stirred almost immediately, grumbling her name and squeezing her more tightly to him.

"Mardin," she said softly, tugging at the solid iron band of his arm. He grunted in response. "I'm starving, so you're going to have to let go."

He grumbled something else she didn't make out, but he did finally let go, so she sat up and stretched, looking back over her shoulder to find him lying there, watching her with hot blue eyes roving over her. His gaze halted abruptly on something, though, and he frowned. She followed his gaze down to see he was looking at one of the bites he'd given her, which was already starting to bruise, as she hadn't had the energy to heal them last night. All except the one she'd promised to leave on her neck, of course.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out suddenly, immediately answering her unspoken question as to what he was upset about. "I shouldn't have been so . . . rough. You must think I'm an – "

"Amazing lover?" she interrupted him, smiling. She knew that wasn't what he'd been about to say; he'd been about to call himself an animal. And maybe part of him was, just like part of her was a mage, but that didn't mean it was a bad thing, and she wouldn't have him thinking that it was.

He grinned, though he still had a concerned look in his eyes as he said, "Well, that too, but –"

"No buts," she told him, laying a gentle hand on his arm. "I already told you, I meant what I said. And I don't regret it – in fact, I very much enjoyed it, as I'm sure you noticed. I don't want you holding yourself back when we're together. I want all of you, okay?"

"Really?" he asked, looking surprised and pleased, and when she nodded firmly, his eyes began to turn that hot blue again as he reached for her.

She swatted his hand away, grinning at him. "But first, I want food, or I won't have any energy to keep going."

He laughed. "Well, I suppose I am hungry for actual food, too. But as soon as we're done eating breakfast . . ."

She nodded, smiling as she got out of the bed. "I promise." She glanced around the room, suddenly realizing that all of their clothes were probably still in a heap in the front hall. "Um . . ."

He hopped out of bed easily, heading for the door of his room with his usual lack of shame. "What are you worried about? I've already seen you naked – a lot, I might add – and since everyone knows what we're doing, I really doubt any of them will come walking in unannounced until we come out ourselves."

"I suppose you have a point," she agreed, remembering how he'd told the others that they would be occupied until late today. And she could always grab her robes on the way to the kitchen, just in case. "I'm glad you're back," she added softly as she followed him out into the hallway.

He glanced back at her, smiling a warm, genuine smile she so rarely saw on him. "I'm glad to be back. And I meant what I said, before. I'm not leaving again, at least not until we figure out why I'm here."

She nodded, smiling at him in turn. "Glad to hear it." She hoped that she could one day convince him to stay for reasons other than his duty, though, and with what he'd said and how he acted last night, she now had more hope that was possible, making her quite pleased with how her day was going so far.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a week later when Brianna got a message that Aveline needed her help and would like to see her at the Keep. Figuring that Aveline probably needed help eliminating bandits or something like that, which she'd asked Brianna to do before, Brianna brought Mardin, Isabela, and Varric with her to the Keep to find out what Aveline needed. Fenris, she'd been informed, had some sort of lead on Danarius that he'd decided to pursue on his own, and figuring that the four of them would be enough, Brianna decided not to track down Merrill to help either.

Once they'd arrived at the Keep, she had the others wait outside Aveline's office while she went in to see what her friend could so urgently need. Aveline was sitting perched on the edge of her desk when Brianna came in, looking unusually nervous. "Hawke. I need . . . a favour that I can only trust to you."

"Of course," Brianna replied instantly, though she frowned a little when she saw Aveline wringing her hands. What could make her stoic guard friend so nervous? "You can always ask me for a favour. You know that."

"It should be a small matter," Aveline began hesitantly, "but I worry. I need you to give something to Guardsman Donnic. Here, in the barracks. No questions, and he is not to know it's from me."

"Donnic?" Brianna repeated. "The one we pulled from an ambush?" And the one that she suspected Aveline might have feelings for; her friend had been talking about him more often lately over the last few months when they'd met for the odd card game. Though she didn't know why Aveline could possibly need her to deliver something to the man.

Aveline nodded. "The event that put me here. But this is . . . a different need of the guard and its captain. And you're doing very badly at the 'no questions' part," she added sternly.

"If that's what you want, then sure," Brianna said, shrugging, "but do you really need me to do something so simple as this?"

"Who do I really know besides you?" Aveline countered. "I need a friend to do this, and it's a short list."

It made Brianna a little sad to realize that what Aveline said was true, though really, her guard friend had only herself to blame; she spent far too much time wrapped up in her work. Still, if Aveline needed something, Brianna could hardly say no, so she held her hand out. "Very well, Aveline. If it means that much, of course I'll do it."

Aveline beamed at her. "Thank you. And please, hurry back with his reaction." She handed over a square package, wrapped in brown paper. "I appreciate this, Hawke. I really do."

"You're welcome," Brianna told her before she slipped out of the office, closing the door behind her.

Mardin and the others were waiting outside, leaning against the wall, and Mardin came over as soon as she appeared, grinning in anticipation as he cracked his knuckles. "Is it bandits? Tell me it's bandits."

She shrugged. "I'm afraid not. She just needs me to deliver a package to one of the guards here in the barracks. So you might as well wait here again; it shouldn't take long."

Mardin sighed. "Well that's too bad. Maybe we should go looking on the Wounded Coast later; I'm sure we can find some."

"Maybe later," she agreed, smiling and shaking her head at him before she headed over to the barracks, leaving the others leaning against the wall outside of Aveline's office.

It didn't take her long to find Donnic polishing his armor in the barracks; she'd always been good with faces, and she remembered him rather distinctly from the ambush she and Aveline had rescued him from. Mostly for the dazed way he'd looked at Aveline like she was a warrior goddess come to save him. He was, Brianna admitted, handsome, if in a more understated way than Mardin. He had slightly long dark hair with side-burns and a full beard, and warm brown eyes that seemed designed to put a person at ease, and was wearing all of the standard-issue guard armor, except for the pauldrons that he was currently polishing.

"Guardsman Donnic," Brianna said in greeting.

He nodded formally in return, standing up and setting his armor down. "Serah Hawke. It's been some time. You're going to be here in Hightown soon, aren't you? I think the captain mentioned it. I see your uncle now and then on my patrols but . . . we don't talk."

"I don't blame you," Brianna replied dryly. "I try to avoid talking to him myself. This is for you." She handed him the package, which he took quizzically. "It's apparently very important."

"I'll take you at your word." He unwrapped the package, setting the brown paper aside, and Brianna was unable to keep from watching out of sheer curiosity as he finally held the item up. "It's a copper relief of . . . marigolds? And it helpfully says so. 'Marigolds.' Well. How crafty. Is there a meaning to this that I should know?"

Brianna blinked, stunned. Why in the Maker's name would this be some urgent package that Aveline insisted she deliver? "I guess there must be," she said at last, flabbergasted. "Anyway, you should keep it. I'm sure it's more important than it seems."

Donnic raised his eyebrows. "It would have to be. Right. I'm sure we both have things to do. Of varying import. Serah Hawke." He nodded to her again, before sitting back down and returning to polishing his armor.

She left the barracks, shaking her head in total confusion as she approached the others. "So, what was it?" Varric demanded. "What did our guard captain need you to urgently deliver?"

Brianna shrugged. "A copper relief of marigolds, apparently."

"What?" Mardin asked, looking utterly confused. "Why?"

"I have no idea," Brianna confessed. "I'm supposed to report Donnic's reaction to Aveline, anyway."

"All right, Hawke, that's it," Varric declared. "I'm way too curious now; I have to come in with you. There's gotta be a story here."

Isabela snorted derisively. "Probably not a very good one." She and Aveline had always been at odds with one another from the moment they'd been introduced at a game of Wicked Grace; they were nearly as bad as Anders and Fenris, sometimes. Bringing her along probably hadn't been the best choice, Brianna realized, but she hadn't expected that they would be here long, and there was nothing she could do about it now, anyway, so she simply shrugged and gave in.

"Well, fine, if you insist, come in. Just stay in the back and try not to say anything; she seems really nervous about this for some reason," Brianna told them as she headed for the door, the others trooping in behind her.

"You're back," Aveline said from her seat behind the desk as soon as they entered, not even seeming to notice that the others were there now. "Of course you are. You're efficient. Get things done. Good or ill. So, how did Donnic react?"

"Exactly the way a totally confused person would?" Brianna said helplessly. "Mind you, I was confused, too."

Aveline frowned. "I thought it was clear. Metal is strong. Copper ages well. Flowers are soft."

Brianna shook her head. "No, Aveline, that's really not clear."

"I've clearly gone about this the wrong way," Aveline said anxiously. "Don't talk to him again. Just . . . take this." She shoved a sheet of paper across the desk, which Brianna took, still utterly confused. "The patrols for next week. Post it to the roster and just . . . listen."

Brianna blinked at the paper, then shrugged. It wasn't like it was a hard favour, after all, even if she had no idea what she was doing. "All right. Posting the roster just over there."

"I need to know exactly how he reacts," Aveline added. "That's key. Thank you." She smiled warmly at Brianna, who simply nodded again as she turned to leave the office.

Isabela sighed as soon as the door was closed behind them. "Too many hits to the head. Or not enough."

"I have my suspicions what it's about," Mardin offered, grinning broadly. "I've seen a few interesting things since I came back and started training the guards again."

"Really, Red? Do tell," Varric replied, though Mardin shook his head, still grinning, as Brianna headed over to the roster, pinning up the new one, then returned to the others, keeping a close eye on the roster to see if Donnic would look at it.

It didn't take long for a female guard with short blonde hair to come over and look at the roster before she yelled out, "Hey, Donnic, whose pucker have you been greasing to get Hightown?"

"What?" Donnic poked his head out of the barracks. "You're daft. I'm working those skinnings across town."

The female guard gestured to the roster. "Says here you're guarding the square. Always been a make-work job, that one. You someone's pet?"

"Check your eyes," Donnic retorted, though he came out of the barracks and started towards the roster. "It's a mistake."

"Says the pet," the female guard said scornfully, walking away.

Donnic had reached the roster by now, and looked closely at it before shaking his head. "You have got to be kidding me. What did I do to get that post?"

"Back to Aveline, I guess," Brianna said with a sigh, shuttling the others back to Aveline's office.

"Donnic thinks I'm punishing him?" Aveline exclaimed in distress once Brianna had relayed his reaction. "But Hightown is a safe patrol. A reward."

Brianna shrugged at her. "You wanted his reaction."

"He wouldn't see it as a reward," Mardin added, making Brianna glance at him curiously, wondering just what he had noticed now that he was back training the guards. "He's been working hard, trying to impress someone, and an easy post without challenge isn't going to do that."

"Trying to impress who?" Brianna asked, since Aveline had already started pacing back and forth, muttering to herself.

"You'd have to ask him," Mardin told her, though he was smirking, and jerked his head a little in the direction of Aveline. Brianna raised her eyebrows. Did he mean that Donnic had feelings for Aveline, too?

Aveline halted her pacing, whirling to face them. "All right, I can fix this. I need . . . I need three goats and a sheaf of wheat. You'll take them to his mother."

Brianna gaped at her. "Are you insane?" She glanced behind her at the sound of a muffled snort, only to see Mardin and Varric both shaking with suppressed laughter, barely able to hold themselves up.

"It's a dowry tradition," Aveline explained, bringing Brianna's attention back to her. "Maybe it will smooth the process."

"Hold a moment," Isabela exclaimed, holding up a hand as she glanced back and forth between the laughing men and Aveline. "You're sweet on the boy."

"So help me, whore, I will break you," Aveline snarled at her, though Brianna noticed she didn't disagree with Isabela.

Isabela laughed. "Oh, this is glorious. All this flailing is her idea of courtship."

That explained a lot, Brianna realized. Aveline must have thought the gift, unusual as it was, would somehow announce her intentions. That and the roster, though neither had really worked, vague as they were. She ignored her other hysterically laughing friends, though she couldn't help seeing the humour in the situation herself, and focused on Aveline instead. "Aveline, you know you can talk to me. Why didn't you just tell me what you were trying to do?"

Aveline shrugged helplessly. "What am I to say? That a grown woman can't speak her mind? I've been focused on being captain for so long, that's all I know."

"Wait," Isabela said, holding up her hand again, apparently having gotten her laughter under control. "I'm confused. Wasn't Lady Man-hands married already?"

Aveline shot a glare at her, though she did reply wearily, "That was . . . a long time ago. It was easier. Or seemed to be."

Brianna frowned. "I can't imagine you having trouble speaking your mind. Why is this so difficult?"

"The guards are in my care. I hurt when they hurt. But Donnic . . ." Aveline sighed. "I want him to know that I feel . . . but if something happened to him . . ."

"Something already happened and he's fine," Brianna pointed out.

"If it made sense, I wouldn't need you." Aveline went back to her desk, leaning against the edge as she continued, "I feel paralyzed. I hate it."

"I could just pull him in here right now, and you can just talk to him. Say the word," Brianna told her. It would certainly be easier than all these vague gifts that Donnic couldn't possibly interpret.

"Oh, and how would that look?" Aveline exclaimed, throwing up her hands. "The captain ordering her guardsman to . . . to . . . it wouldn't help."

"I'd find it sexy," Mardin offered.

Brianna shot him a glare, though she couldn't stop her lips from twitching, or her blood from heating when she saw the way he was looking at her. "We all know you wouldn't have a problem with it," she said dryly, "but that doesn't exactly help."

"Would it help if I said I'd also find that sexy?" Varric volunteered, smirking, before he scribbled something down in his notebook.

Brianna rolled her eyes in exasperation. "No. Ignore those two," she added as she turned back to Aveline, who still looked distressed.

"I can't believe I'm going to be the voice of reason here," Isabela said with a sigh. "Go out. Get him drunk. Shame is a great equalizer."

Aveline turned to look at her, astonished. "What, just . . . go out somewhere? Like it's that easy?"

Brianna grinned, nodding at her friend. "It can be. You don't have to make it complicated."

Aveline nodded slowly. "Tell Donnic . . invite him to the Hanged Man tonight. Don't tell him about me, make something up. It's a surprise, or just you, or a group. Anything to get him there. He's not like the others. I don't want him to think he's meeting the captain."

Brianna sighed, shaking her head. She didn't think that was going to solve the problem, but if it was the only way to get Aveline there . . . "All right, Aveline. Whatever you say."

"Don't you dare wear your armor there," Isabela added, pointing a finger at Aveline. "Come to Varric's room before. I'll get you something normal to wear."

"I'm not going to wear any of your whorish clothing," Aveline retorted coldly.

Isabela rolled her eyes. "Oh please, you prude. I did say normal clothing, didn't I?"

"Let Isabela try," Brianna coaxed her. "She's right, you can't wear your armor there."

Aveline threw up her hands. "Fine. But if I don't like it, I'll wear my own clothes instead."

"Okay, we'll go and invite Donnic," Brianna told her as they went to leave. "See you tonight."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Well, that was a disaster," Brianna groaned, leaning her head against Mardin's shoulder at their corner table in the Hanged Man later that night.

She'd invited Donnic, as promised, telling him there would be a group of people there. Aveline had taken forever to come down, though she'd really looked quite nice when she had, wearing a lovely, simple blue dress. Brianna had spotted her over Donnic's shoulder, but she'd panicked before she'd made it to the table and left. Though Brianna had waited for her to come back, trying to keep Donnic at the table with supremely awkward conversation, she hadn't returned, and Donnic had eventually come the to the conclusion that Brianna was the one interested in him, telling her she wasn't his type before leaving. The irony of it being, he'd told her he liked a little backbone and someone who didn't play shy. And he was hardly her type, either, she thought, rolling her eyes. As if she'd be interested in him when she had Mardin in her bed.

As if knowing she was thinking about him, Mardin slipped an arm around her shoulders, rubbing her upper arm soothingly, though the touch still managed to spread a little fire through her body as well. "You did your best," he offered. "Not your fault she didn't come over as planned. And if it's still bothering you, I'm sure I can think of a way to distract you."

"I'm sure you can," she said with a laugh. "And since the others have all left already . . ." She cut herself off as she saw Aveline approaching their table, looking thoroughly ashamed of herself.

"I . . . I couldn't do it," Aveline mumbled. "What did he say?"

"He thought I was interested in him," Brianna informed her, more than a little exasperated with her friend. "I had to tell him he wasn't my type."

"He'd better not be," Mardin muttered, his arm tightening a little around her.

Brianna had to restrain her urge to whip around to look at him. Was he actually _jealous?_ While the notion that she might prefer Donnic to him was laughable, it was also heartening to hear that he might actually be worried about it. Surely, if this was just a fling, he wouldn't actually care, right? She brought her hand up over his to squeeze it, looking back at him and somehow managing a teasing tone as she said, "Of course not. I prefer my men feisty."

He laughed, his eyes blazing blue at her. "Glad to hear it."

"I'm so sorry, Hawke." Brianna turned back to see Aveline hanging her head. "I'm an idiot."

Part of Brianna almost wanted to agree with her; really, how hard would it have been to walk those last few feet and talk to him? But she knew it wasn't what Aveline needed to hear right now, so instead she told her, "While I agree you should have come over, if you were totally hopeless, you'd have hidden from the start. You almost made it over to talk to him."

Aveline sighed heavily. "Would it have ended any worse? I need to talk to him, but I'm a mess unless I'm on patrol. I'm good at that. Killing highwaymen doesn't exactly provide an intimate setting, though. And I'm tired of embarrassing myself."

Brianna blinked. That . . . actually wasn't a terrible idea. "I think you're on to something, there. You should arrange a patrol with him," she advised.

Aveline shook her head. "But I can't fight and talk . . ."

"So we'll clear the way for you and you can see if he's the one," Brianna suggested. "Do it tomorrow morning."

Aveline smiled, looking hopeful for the first time since she'd come over. "You're too good at this. Is it any wonder you've all but taken Hightown?"

"I still think she should just jump on him or ask him to spar with her naked," Mardin whispered in her ear. She elbowed him in the ribs, smiling at Aveline. "Thanks, I think. But the success of this will still depend on you, you know."

Aveline nodded. "You clear the route up the Wounded Coast and I . . . will think of something to say."

"Just tell him you're interested in him," Mardin told her frankly. "He won't mind, I promise you."

"Are you sure?" Aveline asked skeptically.

"Positive."

"Well, if you say so." Aveline still looked doubtful as she added, "I'll see you all tomorrow," before she turned and left the bar.

Brianna turned to look at Mardin. "You think he's interested in her too. Did he tell you that in training?"

Mardin shrugged. "Not in actual words, but I can see the way he looks at her. Honestly, they both want each other, why can't they just say so? How hard is it to say, 'Would you like to share my bed'?"

"It's not as simple as in your world," she reminded him. "The rules are more strict here, and it's not a common practice for everyone to just out and say that."

"I suppose, but I still think it's needlessly complicated here," he grumbled.

"Well, Aveline is definitely making it needlessly complicated," Brianna agreed. "Anyway, didn't you promise to distract me?"

He grinned at her. "I believe I did, at that. Let's go."

Brianna let him pull her out of the Hanged Man, hoping that things would work out for Aveline tomorrow so she could also have the man she wanted in her bed at night.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning found them at the Wounded Coast, along with Isabela, Varric, and Fenris, who had not managed to find any traces of Danarius yesterday. Brianna had drafted him into service as well, figuring that he could use the opportunity to work out his frustrations, and help them clear the patrol out for Aveline faster.

Unsurprisingly, the first section of the coast they hit upon did have a group of bandits hiding out, but they weren't particularly skilled. It didn't take long for them to wipe out the group, hide them, and light a signal fire. Brianna would've been perfectly willing to keep going, but Varric and Isabela insisted on hiding nearby so they could hear how things were going. Brianna sighed and gave in, crouching with the others behind an outcropping of rock several feet off the path, but still close enough to hear and see what was going on.

"So this route's pretty quiet," Donnic commented as the two of them came up the path.

"Yes, and it's . . . a real nice evening, um, morning, I mean," Aveline corrected herself hastily.

Donnic gave her an odd look before moving on ahead of her. "Um, as you say, Captain."

Aveline chuckled helplessly, shaking her head as she muttered, "Heh, yes, as I say."

"Oh, honestly," Isabela groaned, thumping her head on the rock.

"Maker, she is bad at this," Brianna muttered, and her friends all nodded in agreement, though Varric was still scribbling away in his notebook, smirking.

"You know, I could fix this really quickly," Mardin suggested.

Brianna shook her head. "No, we should give her a chance. Come on."

It didn't take them long to clear out another area, and Brianna didn't even protest listening this time; it was clear that Aveline was probably going to need help at some point. This was made all the more obvious as she heard what Aveline was saying as she came around the bend in the path. "If it isn't done right, the blade can be too soft. Quenching the steel is a vital step that can make or break a sword."

"Right," Donnic said faintly, sounding either bored or confused – Brianna wasn't sure which.

"A blade for every purpose," Aveline went on. "What do you think? About blades?"

"I think she should just grab his blade," Isabela muttered. Varric snorted, Mardin started chuckling, and even Fenris cracked a smile. Brianna couldn't contain a grin herself, but she nudged Mardin to be quiet as Donnic said, "I'm sorry, Captain. I drifted off a bit."

"Right. Of course," Aveline sighed, following him up around the path.

"Ugh, painful," Brianna groaned, burying her face in her hands.

"I can't decide if it's more painful or hilarious," Isabela chimed in with a grin.

Varric closed his notebook with a snap, tucking it away. "I think more hilarious. Good writing material, anyway."

"It is almost pathetic, yet admirable, how much she wants him," Fenris added. "But she does not seem to be getting anywhere."

"She sure doesn't," Brianna agreed. "That's it, I can't take it anymore. If she doesn't say anything the next time, I'm stepping in."

She marched on to the next area, determined to clear it, and sincerely hoping that Aveline would finally get her act together. She could hear Mardin say as the others fell in behind her, "I'm starting to wonder how anyone in Thedas ever manages to have sex with each other."

"With some people, it's definitely a mystery," Varric agreed.

They got the next area cleared out easily enough, but much to Brianna's disappointment, she could hear Aveline saying as she came up the path, "Well, Guardsman, good patrol. I think we're done, and I . . ."

"Oh, no, you're not," Brianna muttered to herself, stepping out of their latest hiding place in front of Aveline, blocking her way onwards, the others all stepping up next to her.

"Hawke!" Aveline exclaimed, looking both shocked and rather like she wanted to murder Brianna for coming out of hiding. "What a surprise. What are you doing here?"

"Aveline," Brianna began in a warning tone.

Aveline shook her head, waving her hands frantically. "Hawke, don't."

_Sorry, but it's for your own good._ Brianna tried to give her an understanding smile as she said, "I think you'll come around once it's all out in the open."

Donnic looked back and forth between the two of them and the rest of their friends. "Will someone please tell me what's going on?"

Isabela rolled her eyes. "You're a daft couple of . . . Take a hint and bend her over a basin, will you?"

"I've often found that actions speak louder than words," Mardin added. "She wants you to do this." And before Brianna could prepare herself, he'd hauled her close and kissed her, hard and hungry. She couldn't stop herself from rising to meet the kiss, pressing herself against him and wrapping her arms around his neck as he dipped her low, before bringing her back up and setting her on her feet.

"Yeah, that," she managed breathlessly, feeling more than a little hot and bothered now, especially when Mardin kept looking at her like he wanted to devour her then and there. Ever since he'd come back, he'd been taking the opportunity to touch and kiss her wherever and whenever possible, even if it was out in public. And where before, she would have been embarrassed or worried about what other people thought, she now found she was starting to care less and less. Why should she worry about what others thought, if she was happy with it and so was he? She hadn't been able to see or touch him for three months; she'd take what she could get now.

"I think we'd all like a little of that," Isabela declared. Looking over at Fenris, she added, "Feel free to do a repeat demonstration."

"I think the point has been made," Fenris said dryly, though Brianna noticed that he did look a little intrigued at the thought.

Donnic looked uncertainly at all of them before looking to Aveline. "Captain?"

Aveline simply chuckled nervously, not saying anything and apparently unable to look him in the eye.

"I . . . should get back to the barracks," Donnic said slowly, still looking at them like they were all insane before he turned and left.

Aveline whirled on Brianna as soon as he was gone. "I thought we were friends."

"We are," Brianna said in exasperation. "That's why I couldn't stand to watch this anymore. Either you tell him or you don't, but this can't go on."

"I . . . I have to fix this. He'll file a complaint . . . ask for a transfer." Aveline pointed at Brianna. "You! You're coming to the barracks to explain why you put him on the spot! Double time, Hawke, or so help me . . ." With that, she strolled away angrily.

"Whoops," Varric said calmly, finishing another line in his notebook before he put it away again. "Looks like our guard captain's pissed. I'll let you deal with this one, Hawke. I'll head back to the Hanged Man for a drink and some lunch."

Isabela and Fenris also added in their desire to go back to the Hanged Man, following after Varric as he headed down the path, while Brianna sighed. "Guess I'd better head to the Keep."

"I'll go with you," Mardin volunteered. "I'd rather like to see how this disaster turns out. And I'm sure you could use a distraction afterwards." He grinned at her.

"I'm sure I will," Brianna agreed, before taking a deep breath. "Well, let's go see what's happening."

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aveline was pacing back and forth just outside her office when the two of them arrived. She shot a glare at Brianna, before frantically looking around the central lobby of the guardsman section of the Keep. "Maker, where is Donnic? I have to . . . head this off before it goes to the Viscount. Maybe a formal apology. Something that shows the guards they can still trust me."

"You're their Captain, not a golem," Brianna tried to reassure her. "They expect you to have feelings."

"Honestly, I think it'll be just fine," Mardin added, smirking as he glanced back at the stairs leading into the lobby.

Aveline ignored him, shaking her head at Brianna instead. "Not if my feelings get in the way of the job. I won't be that stupid again."

Before Brianna could reply, she saw what Mardin had been smirking about; Donnic was approaching them. And he did not look angry or upset. He cleared his throat as he stopped in front of them. "My apologies, Serah Hawke, Captain Trichlor, but I need a moment with the Guard Captain."

Aveline turned to him, shock and surprise stamped on her face. "Guardsman . . . Donnic?"

Donnic smiled warmly at her. "Please."

Aveline turned to look at Brianna, who nodded at her and made shooing motions. Taking the hint, Aveline headed into her office, Donnic following her and shutting the door behind them. Brianna waited with Mardin just outside, but it only took a few minutes before a giggle came from the office, followed by the sound of Donnic saying something and another giggle.

Mardin grinned at her. "See? I told you it'd be fine."

Brianna smiled. "Seems you were right. I'm happy for her. Let's go get some lunch and we'll check back on her later."

They returned to Aveline's office a couple of hours later, after lunch and a few games of Wicked Grace, to see a beaming Aveline waiting at her desk for them. "Guardsman Donnic . . . did not file a complaint."

"I'll bet he didn't complain," Mardin said cheerfully.

Brianna elbowed him, unable to restrain a smile, especially when she saw Aveline turning pink. Her friend shot a reproving glare at Mardin, but otherwise ignored his statement as she turned to Brianna. "This was all incredibly stupid. And you made it wonderful."

Brianna laughed. "I think you can safely claim the credit for all of that."

Aveline simply smiled, and Brianna was pleased to see how happy she was as her friend continued, "You're sweet. I knew asking you was the right thing."

"I'm happy to help out, but let's just not make a habit of this sort of favour, please?" This was not, Brianna decided, the sort of job she wanted to be doing more than once. The rest of her friends could set themselves up with somebody.

"I just . . . there's no way I can ever repay you," Aveline said fervently, her face practically glowing with happiness. "Perhaps it's simple. Thank you."

Brianna nodded, smiling. "You're welcome."

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Aveline interrupted her just as she was turning to leave. "Was there a moment when you thought I was beyond help?"

"Not for a second," Brianna said quickly.

Aveline smirked at her. "You don't lie very well."

"As far as you know," Brianna replied, grinning. To be honest, she'd had a few moments of doubt that Aveline would figure things out, but she was very glad that she had. After what her friend had been through during the Blight, she deserved this.

"Shout when you need me, Hawke. I'll always be here for you. Just . . . knock first." Aveline gave her a sly smile.

"That's good advice for anybody." Mardin slipped an arm around Brianna's waist, tugging her towards the door. "Don't forget to use it when you come to visit Brianna."

"Believe me, I won't," Aveline said fervently, though she was grinning as Brianna waved goodbye and Mardin tugged her out the door.

Brianna halted in her tracks once they were out of the office, looking up at him. "Just what are you up to?"

"You don't have anything else to do today, right?" When she shook her head, he went on seriously, "I have something very important to ask you."

"What is it?" she demanded, feeling unaccountably nervous. Why did he look so serious? He was never this serious unless it involved an actual life-or-death situation.

"Would you be willing to share my bed tonight?" he asked, deadpan.

She gaped at him for a second before she laughed, swatting him in the shoulder. "Maker, don't be such an idiot. We're hardly at the stage where you need to ask that anymore. Of course I'd be willing."

He grinned broadly at her. "Just demonstrating how easy it was. And by tonight, I really meant, right now."

"Lead the way," she agreed, smiling. And as she followed him back to the mansion, she decided she'd rather have all her jobs be this peaceful and easy. If only Kirkwall could stay quiet, she just might be able to manage that.


End file.
